Jazz, gunshots and love if we'll have the time
by SonataForMyOverdosedLover
Summary: The jazzy and glamorous 30's... follow the story of a charmer - professional thief, a femme fatale - trouble magnet rogue, and a low profile boxer,a legend - the Wolverine. In the days where gangsters made the rules their fates keep kicking them on the same highway ... he was not the sort of man to fall in love with and she had no other desire than to swing on the finest tunes ...
1. Prologue

**A.N**: Ah…where would I be without long journeys by train? I present you my latest product of imagination. I simply adored the idea and it would have killed me not to put it into words. Depending on my artistic mood, my time and probably the reaction to this story I will continue to update it.

This is an AU and it will partially represent the characters in the film. The story takes place in the 1930's in the world of the night, where crime, thievery and the mafia were all the bad cards one could play. It is the kind of story that you can't have without guns, bets, smoke, jazz, car chase, guilds, clubs, old good gangsters, blood and black marked boxing.

Also, as a warning, I am not good with accents; therefore you should excuse the lack of them.

In hopes that I have covered everything that had to be said, I do not own any of the main characters, they all belong to Marvel.

**Prologue**

* * *

_Pour mes cheres lecteurs_, (to my dear readers,)

Whoever said money can't buy happiness must have been terribly delusional. That and the people dancing and laughing at their own leisure in that enormous hall would have laughed in his face. With their sophisticated clothes and glittering jewels, with their fine engraved canes and feathered shawls, those happy fools were drinking from their champagne and breathing through the cigarette's smoke without any wish for happiness except from what they were tasting now: fame, luxury, richness.

And Remy LeBeau had no intention to prove them wrong. Actually he had every reason to applaud them for the rich show they were serving.

Yes, money guaranteed your happiness and there was nothing that could prove moi wrong. Money had given me the chance to taste the pleasures of life. Without money, that night I wouldn't have been descending the marble stairs of an expensive casino, I would have never had the chance to arrange the collar of the silk shirt. And certainly I wouldn't have had the chance to meet that one beautiful curved blonde begging me to stay in the hotel room with her. – dear reader, please do not accuse your confessant of lacking manners – now y' see…it is not like Remy to let a woman beg for him – I am more than grateful to abide to women desires but thieves have rules – and one of them says 'never get caught in bed with one of your sponsor's woman' –or it was something about never get involved with your sponsor's woman but 'a thief passes for a gentleman when stealing has made him rich' – pretty ironic don't y' think? And I am right to presume that you have never thought of this thief to be full of wise proverbs, so please do not hide your smiles - they look beautiful on you.

And of course if it wasn't for money I wouldn't have been in France during that peculiar night. I will let you decide if it was fate or a simple coincidence, if that night had been a beautiful blessing or the beginning of an exploding disaster.

At that time, all I was aware of was that my job had been successful, that in the suitcase under my hotel bed laid a beautiful Finnish chalice that was eagerly waiting to get into my employer's hands and by tomorrow evening an appealing sum of money would have been added into one of LeBeaus' accounts. During that evening a sole thought had been in my mind: that night I was on top of the word.

And then, all that it took to sweep the throne from under me and the crown from my head had been a pair of long porcelain legs and the most radiant emeralds world will ever have to offer. That night, I thought I could make her mine and deliberately let her borrow the crown …just for one night. But there are certain moments in a man's life when he realizes that he has bargained for more than he could take. And this, my pleasant readers, was my case also.

I do not ask comprehension, nor do I ask for justice – that would be highly inappropriate for a thief. I am just seeking to share this story with you, my pleasant readers and if y' may find any good morals at the end of it please, be wise and keep them fo' yourselves. In the kind of world where my belle chere and I live, morals are for those y' find at the bottom of a river, with a block of concrete attached to their feet. In this world y' have to be cunning as a fox and ruthless as butcher. Luckily, ma chere is just like that. Sadly, she is also, just like that.

But enough with wise talk. Let us go back to that evening, in seductive Paris, in the winter of 1933 when the story you are about to read begun….


	2. Suspect one: The Thief

Notes:

It is important to understand that in this chapter (and further into the story) I will probably make use of slightly political incorrect opinions or stereotypes. My opinions have nothing to do with further representations that are used in order to create a more accurate environment of the historical moment. However do not expect gratuitous hatred or exaggerations of the situation just for the sake of the violence and shock effect. You must understand that people are usually the product of the cultural and social background that they are coming from. As such, I am trying to portray people and situations taking all these into consideration.

Chapter 2: The Thief

* * *

The casino was fretting with agitation and laughs; with people spending their money on ridiculous expensive objects and being proud of it. Those people, taking part at such events were Remy's favorites. With their perfect smiles and tawdry clothes, they couldn't care less that not only two streets away from them, in the cold night of the winter a mother was wailing for her son, frozen and dead in her trebling arms. In many aspects these beautiful people were true monsters, ugly and rotten on the inside. And he will always wear that sneering smile for them, which in return will be gladly received, too focused on themselves to notice the insult.

His eyes lingered a little longer on the slots before turning to the owner of the powerful barked laughter. He looked up and smiled.

"So, my dear friend Remy, how do you find Paris?"

The voice thundered with the strident Germanic accent. The man's English was terrible, but it was way better than his French, as Remy had come to learn. This massive forty something old German was insisting to call Remy _friend_ when he was nothing but Remy's employer. Pockets loaded with money, he was an antiquity collector, not bad looking for his age but not exactly among the most charming men in the room. Actually, he was too German for Remy's tastes if you understand what this was about. He was wearing expensive clothes, no arguing that, but he was too simple, too blunt and inflexible. He had no sense of fashion whatsoever – he didn't look like the type to follow the newest trends either, but his appearance was saved by the blond hair and deep blue eyes. Not that Remy was conceited about his good looks but those washy traits weren't his ideal of beauty.

"_Mon ami_, France is like my second home. And I have been in Paris so many times that I don't think there is one street _dis homme_ doesn't know by hand."

"Ha ha ha, of course, of course."

Please understand this thief, that he would be anywhere else than here – back to the room with the richly curved blonde or in a limousine to a private place with one of these beautiful women at the casino, but until the exchange wasn't done, until the chalice wasn't in this man's hands and his money safe and away, he had to play nice and amuse him. He even wished he could be back at the museum's gallery, stealing those beautiful emerald earrings he had seen while on his mission. And if he was to play poker at least he wished his opponents wouldn't be as easily fooled as his current ones. Dietrich and his friends were too boring when it came to gambling.

"I don't intend to offend you but, French men are like buffoons. They dress and act so dramatically that one would think that they have nothing in their pants."

At his joke the men across the round table started to laugh. Needless to say that they were a happy bunch of Germans, some proudly wearing their Nazis badges. He was smarter than acting annoyed at the man's failed insults.

"No offense taken."

He had grown tired of people with narrow minds not taking into consideration his origins to a damn different continent. He has always been told how Europeans are obsessed with history but he still had to find one to whom he didn't need to point out that French people had long fled from his country, no longer connected to Louisiana.

"But the French women…" and he made a pause, letting the leering smirks from the table finish his sentence. "As man to man, _Herr_ LeBeau, take a piece of advice and spend some free days in Paris. The things you will find in the most unexpected places will let you speechless."

Now that was exactly what he needed: lessons about women from someone as dull as this guy.

"I have seen some fine ladies in this casino, but nothing compares with what the city's cafes have to offer."

Remy smirked more at the thought that not only he'll receive the payment but he will also take all the money his employer had for the table.

"_Den_ I guess I should ask y' for some tips, _monsieur_." He deliberately let out his thick accent.

The man smirked and narrowed his eyes.

"Now, now friend; there is no need for sarcasm. And in the end is your loss but don't let yourself eaten by envy later. I did try to help."

He was in a good mood. And who was to blame the man when he was about to add to his collection a new, illegal item?

But as a company he was awful; he had managed to bore the hell out of Remy and all that was left for the thief to do was to play his hand and glace around the room to spot various cheaters at their respective games and laugh at their amateurism.

He looked up, faking attention at whatever ol' Dietrich but involuntary, from time to time, his gaze would skip past the man's shoulder.

And then it happened. His heart skipped a beat, he felt all his senses sharpen up and a thrilling chill went down his spine as his escape from boredom was making her way down the marble stairs like a Greek goddess descending from her temple.

He had to curse at the thought that his excitement had probably overcome the effect of the_ duller_ and his eyes must have showed their true color for a moment. But he was too caught by his muse to even check if people around the table had noticed anything. She was, above words, gorgeous in her long red velvet dress, with an extremely generous cleavage, cupping her perfectly round bra-free breasts, and following the curves of her waist and hips, falling like a mermaid tail down to the ground, sweeping two other stairs behind as she was walking. The dress was so tight around her that every movement was made with such intoxicating lentor, her hips swaying so fluidly and elegantly that her body was casting a spell on its own. She was wearing fashionable shoulder length matching gloves but nothing of her clothes and jewels were matching the beauty that nature had blessed her with. He felt captivated by the pair of the most powerful emeralds he had ever seen that she was wearing as eyes; the full red painted lips and the most peculiar hair: her long auburn hair caught behind in a wavy bun had white strikes mixing up in the bun with some falling in perfectly arranged waves down her face.

At the bottom of the stairs she blessed the waiter with a smile as she accepted the glass of champagne. From there she started to pace around the room, sipping from her glass and occasionally stopping at various tables, following the games.

Remy continued to play, barely glancing at his cards from time to time.

She stopped at a pool table and her eyes were following the balls rolling their way inside the pockets.

And then, with a heartrending slow movement she turned her head and her eyes caught his. By now he was expecting things to go as usual. Once a woman had caught his intense staring she would avert her eyes, glancing shyly from time to time until she would start smiling and act important, uninterested until he would throw the killing card – his smile. Usually, that was the point when women would surrender to his charm. But nothing of this happened. Instead, once she had caught his eyes she refused to look away. Moreover, with a tardy movement she brought the glass to her lips and took a taste from her champagne. Involuntary his eyes fell on her mouth and thinking at the contact he licked his lips. He felt a smirk making its way to his lips, something that he couldn't stop nor did he want to. He was going to hit the jackpot tonight.

His smirk froze when she started to make her way to his table, her eyes fixed on his. She waltzed her hips through the people in the casino, the sound of her stilettos leaving marks on his ears. She stopped across the table, her round emerald pools on him.

And then, like the hand of an executioner raising above the head of the miserable criminal her free hand went up the strong arm of his employer, stopping on his shoulder as she bent over to lay a kiss on his cheek.

Just for a second as she closed her eyes their eye contact was broken and he swore he heard the sharp and heavy blade falling and hitting the execution podium. He refrained from the urge of checking his neck but that didn't make him feel any better than the poor fool he had been imagining. His ships were already sinking 7 leagues under the see without even having the chance to start his war of conquest. Remy wasn't much of a sea person but the raffish stories he loved to hear from the sailor in the docks of New Orleans when he was little made now perfect sense for him.

"_Bonsoire, mon mec_." (Good evening, my dear/my man.)

The blond roared at the sweet words even if Remy was to bet on his money that he had no idea of what she had just called him. Sure, she had proven to be his employer's woman but there was something else that was bothering Remy. He couldn't understand the wave of envy and anger that washed over him at the sound of that voice. First of all those words held for him a scent of comfort and familiarity. The only person to whom he was used to hear using them was Merci. Those words were a constant reminder of what a happy family life his brother was having – a life that wasn't made for Remy LeBeau at all. And he was angry that this fool he had as an employer was too much of an asshole to value them for their meaning.

Her arm wrapped around his and she looked as if she had already forgotten of Remy's presence until the German grinned and eyed him.

"_Liebling_( dear) this is my associate and great friend, Remy LeBeau!"

The first thing that crossed Remy's mind was that he was feeling like scorning, rather ashamed to be introduced as a friend of his. The second thing was to try and understand what was wrong with him because never in his life had he been left breathless under the pinning stare of a woman; and that night it had happened twice.

Her green eyes were back on him, a slight smile on her red lips.

"This,_ Herr_ LeBeau, is the Parisian beauty I had been warning you about and, to the mischance of all the people of this casino, she is all mine - Jacqueline Laurent."

The woman tilted her head and allowed a bigger smile, extending her gloved hand over the table, palm down, expecting him to act like a proper gentleman.

Damned he be! He was already aware that he had lost his chance – unless he wanted to act like a lowlife, unprofessional thief– but couldn't resist not to smirk ironically at the situation. Usually he would have an upper hand by surprising his pray with his gallant gestures but this woman in front of him seemed determined to disarm him of all his tricks. Maybe it was better this way – the less opened and tempted she was, the better for his dignity as a member of a strict thieves guild.

He took her hand.

_"Enchanté, mademoiselle."_

"Ah yes, you might have the pleasure of talking with her – and only that, my friend."

Dietrich showed his white denture with superiority. "My French is far from good, so a little French friend to chat might cheer up my sweetheart."

Remy restrained from rolling his eyes but before he had the chance to speak his Greek goddess took her hand back and pulled her artistically sculpted body closer to the man.

"Dear, it is rather impolite to disconsider someone's homeland. I know I would feel very insulted." Her thick French accent was spoiling her English. "Our friend here is not French but Cajun. Am I right, _monsieur_?" She looked into his eyes and he swore that if she was to smile any longer for him he'll throw his arm across the table and grip those full lips with his. Not to mention the sparkle of admiration she had awoken in him for noticing the grave difference of accents.

When he failed to answer she continued, refusing to look any other way than into his eyes.

"New Orleans, perhaps?"

If he had a glass of champagne or any alcohol at all he would have held it up for her.

"Impressive, _chere_."

And there was a flash of annoyance on her face; her smile disappeared for an instance and the green of her eyes darkened at the way he had addressed to her. But as soon as it came, it went away. His trained eyes were fast enough to catch that and he was finding it rather interesting. So she didn't appreciate his sense of humour nor his familiarity. Rich snobbish women never do, actually.

"_Ma_ grand grandmother had a house in New Orleans which I used to visit when I was _petite_."

Of course her smile would melt any doubt away.

From there she stood attached to the man's arm as the game moved on. Occasionally she would whisper or nibble on his ear, giggling at his reactions. That was indeed a cold shower for Remy LeBeau. The woman was barely paying him any attention and when she was she had no problem to look into his eyes.

At one point in the night she whispered something into Dietrich's ear and after he had happily nodded she saluted the men around the table and excused herself.

Before leaving, her eyes lingered on Remy's features.

"_Monsieur LeBeau_. It has been a pleasure. _Mais s'il vous plai, arêtes d'escroquer ces peuvre hommes _(But, please, stop from cheating on these poor men)."

Remy couldn't stop a smirk from forming at the corner of his lips. And the confusion on his employer's face was enough to feel the taste of revenge for his failed night.

"_C'est pas possible quand ils sont si faciles comme des enfants_." (But it's impossible when they are easier to trick than children)."

She simply smiled and shook her head. With that she turned her back and left the room; he pitted his luck; he really did. If he wasn't still bonded by a contract he couldn't have thought of any reason of why he should have stayed in this now dull room and not follow her up the stairs, walk his hand down her back, own her the second they would have eloped from all the prying eyes.

Instead he had to sigh and return to that damn lucky bastard he had as an employer for the rest of the evening.

Hours after midnight, Remy found himself emerging from his shower and securing a towel around his hips. He was relatively tired and he considered how in the morning he'll have breakfast and pick a train to Le Havre and from there he'll get on board of a ship back to old New Orleans. Because of his last year jobs almost half an year had passed since he had last seen home and his family. Maybe he'll even stay 'out of business' for a while. Well, at least until something worthy of his time would appear. He was actually thrilled by the thought of going back home. He had been in a lot of places, and seen a lot of things, but still, in his opinion, there was no place on earth like the always warm, comfortable and seductive Bayou. And in what concerned his family, heck, a traditional Thieves Guild as old as history was probably not the most peaceful thing around with all the dysfunctional members of the family and all the strict patriarchal rules, but they were the closest thing he had to family. Being adopted at a very young age he had close to no memory of what had been of his life before Jean-Luc had taken him as his son. And since then his life has never been simple. Not that Remy complained – simple things were always too boring.

The thief opened the door of the bathroom when, from outside his room, angry shouts and yelling broke the silence of the hotel. He instantly tensed and tried to make something of the noise. Soon after, he came to realize why he couldn't pick anything from what the masculine voices were roaring – it was German. Instinctively he looked around and cursed the fact that he had been lazy enough not to turn the lights on when he had returned into his room – the jacket of his costume was lying on the bed with a deck of cards scattered from one of the pockets.

The yelling was soon followed by commotion and he knew that people were running down the corridor. And then gunfire; a woman screaming in terror. He ran to his bed and picked three cards ready to use them if the madness would follow into his room. Fingering one of them he charged it as more Germans seemed to scream blue murder. Then, the shouting ceased and the sounds of steps were proof that the men were running away. He cursed the fact that he couldn't pick a sentence in that stupid stones- chewing language and kept his senses in alert even if the corridor was again swallowed by silence.

He uncharged the card and let out a relieved breath only to tense yet again when a soft set of running steps reached his ears. It was followed by a begging voice of a woman and all that Remy had time to do before his door clicked open was to get the words that the woman, probably a maid, had uttered in one breath.

"_No, mademoiselle. Ces sont les clés d'acces aux chambre_!" (No,miss! Those are the keys to the rooms.)

There was noise in front of his door and in a flash the door opened and in slipped a silhouette. Remy couldn't believe his eyes when, inside his room, back turned to him, hands on the door that was hit to close back was none other than the woman that had been presented to him as his employer's femme. Still dressed in the red dress she was breathing hard against the door, barefoot and without her gloves. She was looking as if she had been running for her life. And something was telling Remy that he wasn't very far from the truth.

Then she turned and was about to let her back hit the door when she jumped alarmed at his presence. She stood petrified and stared at him. At first he thought that she had been taken aback by the fact that the room was inhabited but then a dreadful thought caught up with him. She was staring at his eyes. Remy cursed. The effect of the duller must have worn out and now his eyes were probably scaring the life out of her. Uncontrollably his left hand turned into a fist and crushed the cards. He hated it. This repetitive reaction in his life he hated more than anything.

But the silence was yet again broken by the yelling outside.

_"Habt ihr sie noch nicht gefunden?_" (Have you found her yet?)"

_"Noch nicht, versucht es im Erdgeschoss!_!(No, try the first floor.)

The woman jumped from her stance and looked over her shoulder listening to the men until their steps were heard running down the stairs.

Then, she took her time and unlike any expression that he thought he would read – fear, confusion, doubt – she eyed at him from between her long eyelashes with a look that reminded him of a fox caught stealing a chicken. She smiled shyly but cunningly and shrugged innocently.

"I guess Dietrich didn't take well my interest in another man."

It was actually Remy who blinked in confusion. He let his hand down.

"_Quoi_?" ( I'm sorry?)

She giggled.

"Actually, I've been looking for you, _monsieur_."

Something was off. Remy's sixth sense was telling him so but compared to this beauty, eyeing him with sudden desire, his conscience was more of a whisper.

"Were you? Are you sure you are not making any mistakes, _chere_?"

The same sweet sound escaped her lips and with movements that would make a cat envious she made her way to him and glued herself to his still wet body.

"What mistakes,_ mon monsieur_, when I could barely take my eyes off of you the entire evening?"

She purred in his chest and caressed his neck with her nose.

He had to shake off the effect she had on him. The trick worked with his mind but his body had another opinion; or so said the newly acquired bulge between his legs, thankfully hidden by the thick towel.

He put his hands on her shoulder to push her away, when, almost too quick and too alarmed she brought her hands to his face and looked at him with round, flustered eyes.

"But you don't have to worry. I sent him off tracks so you'll be the last person he'll think about." Then her voice went back to her low, seductive tone. "So he won't be a bother to us."

He laughed. Against his best judgments he laughed. This woman was a miracle. Of course she had felt attracted to him and he had been an idiot not to notice. And it was like all the women to come up with awkward plans just to be with him. But from all the women he had slept with, this one was by far worthy of the danger.

She got on her toes and leaned over, bringing her lips closer to his but stopping right before the contact. She closed her eyes and breathed a warm air into his lips. It was like an aphrodisiac. Slowly she let her hands let go of his face and she ran them down his shoulders, chest, to his hips where the towel was hanging.

She opened her eyes and looked for his. She bit her lower lip and the next thing he felt was the towel snapping away and his body being pushed forcefully backwards.

He hit the bed and looked up to catch her eyes going down to his exposed member and an eyebrow arch upwards whilst a grin appeared on her lips. Two things he learned from that: She was rather impressed and not shy or embarrassed at all.

Remy smirked. This should prove to be an interesting experience. She let the towel fall from her hand and she approached the bed, bended over, and on her knees, the woman positioned herself above him. He almost hissed as the slit of her dress went all the way up, revealing her porcelain thigh as she spread her legs to pin him under. She leaned and once again she cupped his face with her hands.

"Aren't you in a hurry, _cherie_."

Her grin turned bigger and there was a strange glimmer in her eyes.

"Oh, you have no idea."

For a moment his brain thought of how her voice lacked the French accent but then her lips came crushing on his and his mind paralyzed in that exact moment at her staggering taste. She opened her lips and he hungrily pushed his tongue inside, his head now barely touching the duvet covers. Their kiss intensified as she pushed back with the same force. Remy felt as if he was losing his mind under her touch and refused to break the connection. Soon his head started to spin and he felt as if he was under the effects of a drug, a sensation of dizziness taking over his entire body. Immediately the spin turned into vertigo but by the time he tried to open his eyes everything had gone black and an endless darkness swallowed him alive.

* * *

Remy LeBeau turned over in his bed to avert his eyes from the light that was coming through the window. He breathed heavily and the sounds of the ticking horologe on the wall echoed like elephant steps in his head.

He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance and opened one eyes to look at the disturbing element in his room. It read half past eleven. He froze; the train; he had lost the morning train. He jumped in a sitting position and immediately cursed the violent movement. His head hurt like a bitch and the nerves of his body pricked in numbness.

He brought his hands to his temples to stop the pain.

What the hell had happened last night? He looked around and freaked out when nothing came into his mind. He kneaded his eyes and tried harder. Like a hurricane the image of the white striped woman appeared in his mind. He frenetically looked around. She was nowhere to see; the door leading to his empty bathroom was opened. Once again the same question plagued his mind. What had happened? He started to remember the shouts, the woman running through his door, approaching him, her hands crawling down his naked body and then…. nothing. Looking to his sides he noted that the bed was a mess and he was stark naked. He let out an exhausted breath – because heaven was witness – he felt awfully exhausted. Trying to search for more clues he spotted an opened bottle of champagne on the bedpost. But there was only one glass. He stretched across the bed to grab it and inspect it. Well, at least it had traces of red lipstick so he couldn't have dreamt it.

This current situation was way over his league and the best way to try and clean his thoughts was to take a shower.

An hour later he was making his way to the restaurant of the hotel. Last night still being a mystery to him, he decided to eat something before leaving with the next train. He had come to a conclusion that something did happen last night since all the clues were indicating that; except one thing – the woman was missing. Even if it was hard to admit, Remy was feeling a little insulted. Until last night he had never been the one to wake up alone in a bed. He had always been the first one to leave after a one night stand. It also bruised his ego to be put in this position and realize that the one left behind had to go through some sort of bitter feelings.

But what was done was done. He only wished that, with such a beautiful woman, he could remember at least a small part of it and not have to use his imagination. Now, that was embarrassing.

When he reached the restaurant he arched an eyebrow at the commotion.

Put into words, the restaurant was almost empty if it weren't for Dietrich yelling at the phone of the bar and his men. He looked as if his yacht had been set on fire or even worse and Remy swore that the guy was spitting through his awful language. He pitied the poor waiter from behind the bar.

He took a seat at a table nearby two of his men.

A waitress came to take the order.

While she retreated Remy looked at one of the stoned men.

"What happened with _monsieur _Dietrich?"

The man, with his hands crossed ahead looked down at him and tried to come up with a sentence in English. He had a black eye which made it harder for Remy to concentrate and not laugh.

"Boss got robbed."

Remy frowned.

And, as if what he was about to say was licentious the man continued on a whispered but amused voice.

"And cheated."

When Remy arched an eyebrow, available for details, the man glanced at the loud man to make sure that he wouldn't be seen or heard.

"Last night had been a true madness in _ze _hotel._ Zis _French woman he met had turned to be a swindler._ Sie_ took all _hiz_ money and 'poof'" he mimed a magician "she disappeared."

Remy immediately tensed at the mention of the woman. He knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Since_ zen_ boss _haz_ been looking for her. Now he _iz_ sending us to check all the train stations. It had come out that Jacqueline Laurent wasn't even her true name. But I am telling you: _sie_ had a great aim. When I almost caught her last night _sie _picked a vase of flowers and threw it right at me. BAM!" And to prove his point he faked a punch at his black eye. Truth being told, at a closer look one would realize that his eyebrow also had been notched in two.

Remy stared at the man. And then he started to laugh full-heartedly. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like that. That woman had been full of surprises. He should be feeling a little hurt because she never considered telling him her real name but the fact that she had actually fooled his employer made him feel proud.

The man eyed him with confusion and disapproval.

"And why are you laughing like_ zat_? Much of that money had been yours."

In that instant Remy chocked on his laughter and the ghostly look on his face made the man grin and nod in confidence.

Remy shot his head at the angry blond across the room and watched him with grave attention.

"Well, I guess_ zat_ whatever deal boss had with you, since _zere_ is no more money it _haz_ to wait."

Remy swallowed hard; his head started to spin and before a sensation of complete numbness had the chance to install over his body he jumped on his feet and sprinted towards the door, accidentally hitting the waitress with her tray and stumbling through the two black suits posted at the entrance of the restaurant. He ran his lungs out up the stairs, the idea of the elevator not even forming in his head. He had only one image in his mind and he couldn't chase away the dreadful feeling that had made his heart as small as a nut. Once in front of his room he searched through his pockets for the key and realized how terrible his hands were shaking. He damned that stupid thing that was simply refusing to be found and without considering the situation he brought one of his hands to the knob and charged it. The metal handle exploded and Remy hit the door to the wall practically launching himself at the legs of his bed and looked under. He tore the suitcase from the floor. He stared; and stared as if it was a ticking bomb. It was closed and the code of the locks untouched.

He let out a long and discontinued sigh, his entire body melting with easiness. He laughed but it was a relieved and forced laughter. He seriously needed to act less paranoid. The woman had probably set her eyes on the man's money and whilst she was at it why not have fun behind his back. There was no way she could have known of the serviette. And his room looked in place, she hadn't been scooping around.

With the suitcase still in his arms he chose to open the code and throw a look at its content. Maybe he would start looking for another buyer since this one seemed pretty broke at the moment. The lid clicked open and Remy lifted it.

He froze.

The emptiness inside was staring at him with defiance. He desperately ripped the folds of the velvet in which the chalice once stood but he ended up staring at a complete empty suitcase.

He felt the blood leaving his face and his mind transformed into a blank page of dementia.

His knuckles turned white under the grip and unstoppable energy passed through his fingers into the object in his hands. With mad rage he threw the suitcase and it blew even before it had the chance to hit the wall.

_"Putain de merde!"_

(Fucking bitch!)

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**A.N.**: oh well, somebody must tell Remy that shit happens, don't you agree? And Jacqueline Laurent - now isn't that an obvious name . Well I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter of the story. Till next time, take care and happy holidays, darlings!


	3. Profile: The Rogue

**a.n.**: Alive and kicking… well more kicking than alive, but I am sure you've got my point. This story is up for a new upload.

But, first of all, I was very flattered at the reviews for the last chapters. They were smart, they were pointing out the mistakes that I have made and they were constructive critics. Thank you, guys. It's always a pleasure to read a review consisting of personal opinions and suggestions. So, to answer some:

**Ruby**: Remy is judging by stereotypes. The same way you say that French people are…too French; or when you end up saying to someone that he/she has such a British sense of humour. Plus, we have to take in consideration American-European cultural relationship. That was the time when America was the image of the light-house and Europe was an old continent, spoiled by war and heavy minds. All these are stereotypes. They are ways in which a country/state/continent is seen. No reader should mistake the inside of one character with the point of view of the writer. I am writing scenes and thoughts adapted not only to the characters as we know them to be, but to the timeline as well. It's inevitable that a personality will be shaped by the cultural moment.

**Samantha Di Girolamo:** About the Nazi party and France. Well, we all know that the occupation came later. But the Nazi party was already strong in 1936, and Hitler's policy was about the great shame Germany had to endure because of Europe. With such a propaganda in Germany and such a revolutionary program, only common people with no connection to the foreign events would not react to the famous Nazi member pin. What is more important is that, as an American, this new fight in Europe was too complicated and unnecessary.

Also, thank you for the card correction. I was indeed mistaken. I had in mind the magnet card which was invented earlier but still, not for public usage. Thank you for noticing the historical abomination. I mean it.

**Chellerbelle**: once again, thank you for the review. And for all of you (**yingyanggirl, angel897, ithinkimaninja, SexyFireBendingNi**nja) I hope the waiting was worth it. Since almost a year has passes I am sure you'll have to reread the first two chapters to remember what the story was about.

update: **UntoughableRogue**, hon, you are the loveliest lady of them all; thank you for your patience to go through this chapter and check all those infantile mistakes I made. Also, thank you for the real interest. I will have a chapter, the forth of this story, dedicated to you.

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**Profile: The Rogue**

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Remy LeBeau was a patient man. In his line of work patience was a golden card. But right now he was running out of it. He checked his watch. It was paste 11 in the morning and there was no sign of that woman. He was starting to panic, thinking that he could have missed her. But he had been in that call box since six, never letting the hotel door out of sight. Had Forge given him the wrong information? He yawned and thought of the last conversation he had with the man over the phone.

"_O-ho! I got all the information you need, and let me tell you, man; you owe me a big favor now. You are not the only person looking for this woman. There's an entire list of shady characters that would pay a fortune to have her six feet under. You have no idea how many powerful men she has crossed. You have literally hit jackpot. How did you get to her? Is she really as sweet on the eye as words go?"_

"_Would you get to the point? My information?" He was in no good humor._

"_Don't get your panties in a twist. You, my friend, have just stumbled across __**the Rogue!**__"_

"_Who?"_

"_As you heard. She stands to her name. Well…the only name she is known by. Don't ask me anything about age, origins and names. As far as civic registration goes I don't think she even exists. Regardless, she's in this business for years; even with such distinctive features she's a master at fooling people, leaving them penniless and disappearing without a trace. Her whereabouts are very hard to locate, but with me, you are in the luck. The hotel you have to your right, yes, I did not bring you to a random location, is exactly where she is now. One of my sources saw her get out of the train station in London yesterday and followed her until she checked to The Philanthropist. I don't know what she's doing there but I can assure you she's up to no good. She doesn't resurface unless she has a target."_

"_You must have something more specific to work with."_

"_Well… it can just be a coincidence but Buscelli is in London."_

_He pondered the situation. Buscelli didn't have such a brilliant organization but they sure were the favorites of many heads in the mafia."_

"_What more can you tell me about her?"_

"_Look, you're lucky we caught sight of her and that we could identify her. There is not much known about her…I guess that's why she's so hard to track down. She's a rogue. That's what she does for a lifestyle. She is always working alone and whatever she takes it's usually not for market anymore. I guess she keeps most for herself."_

_Remy sighed. Those were usually easy targets but it seemed that she had enough experience to have lived that long. The other end of the phone whirred into his ear._

_Daaamn…do you even know how lucky you are? To catch the Rogue in action. You'd have mafia bosses thrown at your feet, offering you paradise to eliminate her."_

"_I am not an Assassin."_

"_Of course not. To tell you the truth, it would be a shame to take down such a beauty from the game. She sure has style. Come on, tell me Remy...is she as good as the black market gossip goes?"_

"_She played me out of the business, Forge. I guess she's good."_

"_Pff… no offense...but if she did that she must be a knock out!"_

_He knew that the man meant it professionally but he was so close to the truth._

"_You couldn't have nailed it better."_

Forge was keeping too much of his time with his chatty attitude. It was risky to contact him for information because he was everyone's man as long as there was good money down the table. But he was also the best. He would have tried to contact the Guild but it would have meant that he had a lot of explaining to do. And he'd rather not become the laugh of his family because of some woman.

Once again he sighed and leaned on the glass wall. He put his hand in the inner pocket of the trench coat feeling the pack of cigarettes but he froze when the door of the hotel opened.

_Well I'll be damned_! If it wasn't for his good eyes he would have missed her. Her hair and face were hidden under the heavy brim of a stylish hat. He smirked. He couldn't help having a good memory, and measurements like hers weren't easy to forget. With that tight skirt and a suit to follow her clepsydra waist she surely was a woman who loved to live a good life. The black high heels were enough to make a man turn his head and the small purse in her velvet-gloved hand was probably a fortune itself.

The woman stopped to look for cars before she crossed the road. Well, he hadn't spent an entire month looking for nothing. He pushed the door opened and started to follow her, deciding to see where she would lead him. He'll have enough time to confront her when he got bored of the game.

She strolled down the streets of London's heart without any particular sign of a destination. He watched her from afar, how her hips swayed, how her head turned at times, how she stopped in front of shops. A bicycle stopped meters in front of her and the owner parked it near the wall as he entered a shop. Her shoes echoed on the pavement and with the most nonchalant gesture she took the lilies form the bicycle's basket, continuing down the sidewalk, and turning right to cross the street once again. He grinned at her antics, how she brought the flowers up to smell them, how she let the petals caress her face.

She continued her ritual, and while passing in front of a newspaper stand she snatched one of the periodicals. The merchant was too busy with a costumer to notice anything. Remy shook his head in amusement. She was something; he had to give her that. She was bold to begin with, because she had no thief skills. It was just a game of circumstances and she knew how to play it.

She opened the newspaper and with her purse under her armpit and flowers locked with her arm she studied the first page titles. Not long after, she approached a bench and took a seat right in the middle, legs crossed, giving the right signal that she wanted to be left alone. He had to lean on a tree, out of her visual range. And there he waited. He was starting to consider approaching her, as she seemed to have nothing in mind than a way to pass her time in the city. There she spent enough time, reading the paper, making him believe she was a sun-loving cat. As much sun as you can get in such a gloomy city. That's how his mind skipped to one question. Where was she from? He had met her in Paris, now, here she was in London, but not even Forge knew what to tell him. He was finding it weird and curious. She knew French, perfectly nonetheless; and English; he knew she had faked her French accent because he remembered the perfect English she had used in his hotel room. He hated the fact that it was almost everything he could remember; besides being stark naked, that was everything. She had either hit him in the head or used some sort of slipping pill.

He was about to push himself from the tree when his eyes caught a familiar face exiting the hotel nearby. What do you know? Buscelli. Now, wasn't _that _a coincidence. The man and his two bodyguards left the terrace and entered a black car parked nearby. He would have considered questioning what was the head of the family looking for in London, but the paper in her hands folded and the woman stood up as soon as the car started the engine. Wasn't this situation getting interesting? He waited to see her moves, and it came to no surprise that she was now making her way towards the hotel. He moved to follow but things started to confuse him when she stopped near the cafe and unfastened the leash of a white bichon frise left unsupervised. She took the dog and proceeded inside the lobby.

He quickened his steps not to lose her and slipped inside unnoticed, taking a seat in one of the armchairs, his back turned to the check-in counter. But he had a mirror to see each and every detail of her scheme.

The woman suddenly lost her firm walking and approached the employee behind the desk.

"Oh please, luv, I am in a great need of a favour."

The blond woman looked at her with concern. But what bothered Remy was the extraordinary posh British accent his prey had. He did not expect that.

"With what can I help you madam?"

It was obvious that the small dog was uncomfortable in a stranger's arms and was complaining as such.

"I know is inappropriate since I am not even a client here but my sweet Frou-Frou has a terrible condition and I need to give her some water as soon as possible."

The woman got more nervous, not knowing how to respond to the situation.

"Madam… I'd gladly help you but I can't leave. Please, if you go to the restaurant, I am sure one of my colleagues will help you."

"Darling, please. I can't afford precious time to explain again to someone. My poor baby is going to faint without water. Please, you must have at least a bottle of water nearby."

And truth-be-told Remy sincerely pitied the poor animal. It was panting at her barbaric grip around its neck. Did she have no heart?

Under such a pressure and probably new to the job, the small woman panicked.

"L-let me check in the backroom. I might have something there. Please stay here."

And there was her mistake. As soon as the woman disappeared she reached for the registration book to gather all the information she needed. He didn't know if he should admire her. Any professional would have got their hands on that information without creating such a loose situation. He couldn't believe she was so praised with this sort of tactics. It was attracting too much unwanted attention. Nevertheless, she was a great liar and a good actress.

A man walked into the lobby and he went to the check-in. A commotion was starting outside and before the owners of the dog could enter inside the hotel, desperately searching for the missing pet, the poor man found himself with the dog pushed to his chest. She almost ran behind the desk and took a key from the rooms' boxes. No one saw her, hell exploding in the lobby, a woman and a man running and yelling at the 'thief'. The blonde clerk ran back at the noise and in that chaos Remy saw the doors of the elevator closing, imprisoning the elegant woman, more interested in checking her mascara in the mirror than the mess she had created.

Remy let out a long sigh and stood up. He checked his collar and arranged his shoulders before calmly stepping towards the stairs. There was no reason for hurrying. He knew where he would find her and he also knew without a doubt whose room she was raiding. With the easiest attitude, without attracting any suspicions he traveled to the second floor until his eyes fell on the number of the key she had stolen. The door was locked but by the sounds coming from inside she was already there. Two lock picks materialized in his hands and with a last check down the hall he opened the door.

He stopped his urge to laugh. The woman was so preoccupied with turning the room upside-down that she had not heard him or noticed the door open. He leaned on the doorframe and savored the sight of her on her knees, on the other side of the bed, desperately searching under the mattress. And hell, he was sensing her irritation even if his empathy had nothing to do with it. Well, it was time to make an entrance. With a smirk on his face and the shoulder on the wooden frame he cleared his voice.

"Looking for something, Chérie_?_"

To say that her heart must have jumped from her chest was the proper way to describe her reaction. Her head snapped up, over the bed, to stare at him with the most shocked eyes and a mortified expression. He cursed those green eyes. For a moment they made him lose his composure.

After the shock waved away she started to look around, probably for a way out. Then her eyes narrowed and looked at him suspiciously. Sooner or later recognition would hit her hard.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Slap. Or it felt like a damn good one. He looked at the woman in disbelief. He would have expected fear, panic, but recognition nevertheless. He was pretty sure his was not a common face; and to say that a woman failed to keep him in her mind made him feel a little offended.

When he gave her no answer her suspicions grew. She let go of the mattress but did not move from her position.

"Umm…. Are you related in any way to Buscelli or... you know, working for him?"

He tilted his head.

"_Non." _He wanted to go on but her figure relaxed and an entirely different expression took over her delicate features.

"Then get inside and close that door after you." Her lips let out a sneer and she resorted to look under the bed.

He couldn't believe her. He tried not to laugh and actually did as she had asked. He started to make his way to her.

" _Chère,_ I am after something that is _illegally_ in your possession."

She made the same amused noise as she got up and started to search the drawers.

"Hon, I highly doubt that I have anything legal in my possession." And to prove her point she stopped and turned the edge of one of her gloves revealing the price tag still attached to it.

He laughed at that, but it was more of an incredulous laughter. He couldn't figure out this woman. She was either a swindler or a creative professional. And something caught his interest. That accent of her was definitely American.

He watched as she went back to her business.

"Remy is here for something you've stolen from the wrong man."

"Wait in line." She looked at nothing in particular trying to recollect her thoughts. "Ah don't think Ah ever managed to steal something from the _right_ man." Ah, now that accent he approved. "Somehow they always want it back with mah head on a plate as a bonus." She looked at him with a biting sarcasm. "Can yah imagine?"

"Look _Chère,_ let's make a few things clear. There is a certain chalice that you took from me; not to mention an entire job you've messed with. I am not asking for d'money. Just give back what you've stolen and since you have such beautiful eyes Remy will look the other way at the fact that y' have tried to mess with a thieves' guild member."

But the woman was set on ignoring him. He frowned. She bent over the wooden cabinet. Her face brightened and she started to push it away. Victoriously she pulled a black suitcase from behind and after putting it on the cabinet she pushed it opened. It was filled with cash dollars. He let out a long whistle. There must have been more than 2 million dollars in there.

But he jumped when the woman slapped the case closed; letting out the most frustrated sound he had ever heard.

"Gawd'dammit! It's not here."

He eyed her as if she was insane. Did she just act as if that case was filled with garbage?

In a second he went from concern to a self-protection stand, arms almost over his head when she furiously gripped a nearby vase, ready to throw it against the wall.

But she stopped. The auburn haired woman stared at the object in her hands as if it could give her the answer to all her questions.

"Oh, how stupid Ah've been! He must have taken it with him. Damn….the transaction was today."

She ran her tongue down her lips and it was a gesture that couldn't have escaped to Remy. Suddenly she turned to look at him, biting her lower lip in a pensive gesture.

"Here, can you hold this for me for a moment?"

Before he had the time to react, too lost in those red painted lips he found himself with the vase in his arms.

She went for the case and after securing the grip on it she stared into his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but she brought a gloved finger to his lips, her eyes, more than the gesture, silencing him.

"Just a moment."

She let out a warm breath to caress his chin. With that she sidestepped him and in the next moment she was by the door. He turned in time to see her grab the doorknob and put the keys in the outside lock. He was brutally brought back to reality and jumped as fast as he could towards the door. Sadly, he got there only in time to hear the key turn and the sound of her high heels walking quickly down the hall.

"_Merde!"_

He couldn't believe that this woman had him in the fool's position twice! He would have tried to pick the lock but he knew the key was on the other side. Instead he charged the doorknob and blew it away with the entire mechanism. Instead of running after her he sprinted to the windows. He looked down at the busy street and the tables of the hotel's cafe. Two floors was not such a high distance and she was bound to run through the hotel's door sooner or later. Without much consideration for the people around he hopped over the window's frame and into the street. Gasps and sounds of shock grew around him but he had only one target and that was the door. As he was eyeing it he was starting to grow impatient. He saw the people inside starting to yell and run. Either she was coming that way or they had caught her previous lie. But then something happened. Under certain circumstances it would have escaped him but Remy knew to always trust his instinct.

He watched a cab coming from around the corner and slow down in front of the hotel. The window rolled down to reveal the smiling woman waving her gloved hand at him. She brought her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. Before the car would speed again her laughter filled his ears.

"It's been a pleasure, _Monsieur LeBeau_!"

He watched the car run down the street, knowing it was futile to try and run after it. That didn't make him feel any better and in fury he kicked one of the chairs, attracting attention. Of course she would remember him. Oh, what a fool he was. If anything, he swore then and there never to let his guard down around that woman. He was starting to get the picture. She was using her charms to play with her prey, and she was good at it. He found it a little bit disturbing that it was working even against him, an empath. He looked over at the almost crying blonde at the check-in. This was not over. He made his way to the lobby again. This _Rogue _was going wherever Buscelli was going, and he knew how to get all the information.

That is how he ended up making a run to the train station. He would have taken a car but he chose the shortcut through narrow streets and wide parks. He stepped on the platform and tried to catch his breath. His eyes started to scan the area. Fortunately the train was still stationed. Remy blended with the crowd, getting closer to the train. He froze and hid behind an iron pillar when he caught sight of Buscelli**. **He was in the company of his two watchdogs and by the way he was checking his watch he was waiting for someone and in a hurry. He looked around and he didn't need his years of experience to spot a weird looking man walking along the line of the train, head down, his hands deep in his pockets and his fedora covering his face. He looked like a 'delivery man', and if that alone wasn't enough, at seeing him, Buscelli brought his hand inside his suit. And after all, the woman has mentioned a transaction. By the looks of it, whatever she was after was in that pocked. Speaking of which, he had still not seen her since the hotel incident. His eyes scanned the tempestuous crowds in the station for her. He would be almost disappointed if she would have given up her plan. But it did not last long as he caught a glimpse of the burgundy hat approaching the scene. She looked more than determinate to go straight at the man. But Remy had other plans. For far too many times he had been a collateral victim of hers and now it was her turn to feel the taste of frustration. With that he stepped out of the shadows and in less than a second she froze. He grinned her way, loving every moment of that concerned expression of hers. At her frown he brought up a finger and scolded her as if she was a bad girl. His mouth mimicked the word 'no' and his satisfaction grew immensely when she started to desperately look from him to the other man and back again. She knew that if she was to make one more step he would act and nothing good would come out of it. At least not for her.

And then it all happened. Her eyes narrowed and she threw him one of the most venomous glares he had ever received. The suitcase in her hand twitched and she started to advance towards Buscelli with firm steps. From there her eyes never left his retreating arm.

Remy shook his head at her attitude and stepped in. He was going to stop whatever plan she had in that pretty head of hers. It felt like a ticking bomb with very step they would make; the approaching man, the retreating hand, revealing a black pouch. He had to reach her before she reached Buscelli. And she had to make a move before the 'delivery man' would pass the Italian or that pouch was forever lost to her. And that was exactly what Remy was going to make sure would happen. She might have thought she would get away with it but, pretty head, no pretty head, Remy didn't like to be played off.

Like rays colliding, in an instant he had a felling that this train station was not going to forget that day anytime soon.

He launched after her hand, gripping it and spinning her around. In the moment he locked eyes with hers, those green orbs darted him out of focus. He felt her wrist struggle free and the next thing that happened were money flowing everywhere, dancing up in the air and raining back to the ground. He heard yelling, his body was thrown to the ground, people running from every direction, chasing the bills. He heard the men nearby cursing and he didn't have to look to know that panic was instilled. Before seeing it, his ears recognized the sound of charged guns. Recovering faster than the other four men he glanced at Buscelli. He was trying to get up with the help of one of the brutes. His head snapped around. The woman! Where was she?

"The sapphire! The sapphire is gone!"

Remy looked up to spot the woman running out of scene and looking behind. He ran after her and that must have caught a lot of attention.

"The woman! Take that woman down!"

Unfortunately Remy froze when bullets went past his ear. Looking behind, there was no doubt; for some reason they were trying to shoot him too. Damn woman, dragging him into this. He looked back at her only to catch a last glimpse of her silhouette jumping the stairs of a departing train. He pushed forward after her and he knew he wasn't the only one. The same man with the fedora was making his way inside the train. Out of anger he pushed the people in his way; that man was not going to kill her until Remy'll have back his chalice. He knew he was catching up when people around him were yelling and recovering from the shoves that they had probably received. Then he saw her, at the other end of the wagon. As he slipped towards her he considered how much admiration he had towards women and the way that those ridiculous hats would always stick to their heads no matter how uncomfortable the situation was.

He caught her right between the wagons and stopped her escape.

"Aren't we in a hurry?"

Her surprise didn't last long but it was soon changed into anxiety.

"Let go of me, Cajun!"

Well, that anger was unexpected but he guessed that even she knew of the danger she was in. The train announced its departure and in the next moment it slowly started to move.

He looked past her shoulder at the figure approaching them with a hunter's speed.

His eyes narrowed and he stopped the door from closing, gripping the woman by her waist and jumping outside.

"What are you doing!?"

But the powerful bang coming from the train made her jump and spin in his arms. Instinctively he put an arm in front of her but the man was trapped inside the train.

She looked at him with eyes wide in fear. What Remy didn't like was that the angry man crossed a line around his neck with his hand and after finishing his threat he locked eyes with him. Now that couldn't be good.

He almost rolled his eyes when he had to catch her by the wrist. Would this woman ever learn? Trying to sneak away from a thief was one of the most naïve things to do.

"Not so fast."

But she looked past him. He glanced in the same direction only to find the 'friends' they had left on the ground looking for her.

"How about you tell me where the chalice is and I won't point them right at you?"

"How about you don't do something as stupid as that and see if dead can talk?"

"Woman, I've been trying to be nice with y', but you're pushing it."

Suddenly there was a call and the one that had spotted them was already running through the dizzy crowd.

He felt a sudden grip on his forearm.

"Ah'll make a deal with yah. Get me out of this mess alive and I'll give you back your chalice."

He frowned and pressed his lips into a thin line. Damn him and his chivalry. Without looking back he started to run, dragging the woman with him. They made their way out of the station, pushing people aside. Remy mentally cursed London's train station. Was this place ever clear of this sea of moving people?

They reached the streets and before she had the time to pull him in any direction he led her right to the street, letting go of her wrist only to grab by the collar a man that was trying to get in his car. His quick hands acquired the keys and he jumped in the driver's seat. He almost laughed when the man, recovering from the shock, went to reason with his companion but the woman simply forced the door open and threw him a glare.

"Save it for the police, darlin'."

And not a second later the engine started to roll as two of the men ran into the street, guns in their hands. "Get this damn thing moving."

But he was already at it, speeding through the street until a safe corner broke the line of sight of their pursuers.

"I must say, _Chère_, Remy never did dis in plain daylight."

"What daylight Cajun, this place will be swamped with fog soon. Days don't last that long in London."

He chuckled.

He focused on the road, trying to decide what was the fastest way to end this; and they had to ditch the car in the end and find another way to disappear. Buscelli was not a man to give up easily. This small Italian family was nothing that would worry Remy though; he had previous encounters with them but nevertheless they knew how to be persistent.

They were as far as reaching the line of Thames. He was searching for a place to park the car so it was not his fault that he was also stealing glances at the woman, trying to read her.

His eyes fell from her pouting lips to the porcelain skin of her neck. No wonder with a face like hers she could fool any man. You'd have to be blind not to appreciate her looks. A glimpse at the base of her neck caught his attention. He wished he could explain how everything came to him like a piano down the stairs but it all ended with a brutal shove over the brakes, the car stopping on a dime and sending both of them ahead. She had pushed her hands against the board to sustain her weight and avoid an impact.

"What the hell was that?"

It took her only a look at the man to swallow her every word.

"_**Chère**_."

But it did not sound anything like it. His low tone made her blood froze.

"Where. Is. The. Chalice?"

It was not a question. If anything he was trying not to tremble in anger.

She glanced outside. The cars behind them were honking and drivers were growing impatiently, cursing Remy.

"Can't we have this talk somewhere el-"

But she jumped out of her skin and glued herself to the door when the man launched at her chest, gripping her shirt and ripping the first button to gain access to her neck.

"Nice necklace you have there… _**Chérie.**_"

Oh, he would have recognized those jewels even by touching them. He hadn't seen them in a month and that had happened when they were still engraved into that _damn old chalice!_

A gasp escaped her lips and before she could answer her eyes involuntary looked outside, thorough the window.

"Oh, god!"

A black car came out of a corner and drifted into the main road.

From inside jumped four men with guns, and they started to run right towards them.

"Let go, let go!"

She desperately gripped his hand with hers and tried to unclench it. He knew he shouldn't have, but he enjoyed every second of her panic, of her beating heart threatening to leave her chest.

"Let go!"

She tried to turn in the chair and open the door but he snapped his other hand on the handle and kept her imprisoned.

"Where do you want to go, _**Chère**__?_" But his words were full of malice. He knew; he felt it; his emotions were too powerful to hide his red and black eyes under the effect of the _duller_. And she was staring back right into his demonic orbs. Let her taste more fear; let her know the game was done; that she should have never crossed _Le Diable Blanc._

And she was lost. She couldn't breathe and couldn't move. Her head was slowly deprived of oxygen.

But air burst inside her lungs when a bullet broke inside through the window, rending it into thousands of pieces.

She screamed! Out of her lungs she screamed, covering her ears and curling down, under the board and practically into Remy's chest.

Damn, his anger got the best of him. That bullet could have hit any of them. He felt her tremble in his chest. He heard her mumble some indecipherable words as her hands unclasped and reached for him.

"Yah son of a bitch! Ah'm not going to end up dead because of you."

With that, still trembling from the shock she crawled into his lap and opened the driver's door. He stared up at the approaching men as she managed to bring her body out of the car.

Hidden behind the door she glanced at the black suits. She waited for another round of gun shots and in an instant darted into the road, running as fast as she could towards the narrow alleys between the buildings. Remy growled, unable to move after her because of the bullets flying his way. The second they stopped he jumped after the woman, much faster, disappearing into the same dark spaces. There was no way of missing her, her high heels echoing as she ran and making her a chanceless target. Before she could take another corner he grabbed her and pushed her body into the wall.

"Are you mad? Get off meh!"

She knew she should be concerned over his towering figure but at that precise moment he was not the one holding a gun.

"Why should I wait for them when I could break your fragile neck right here, right now?"

That made her look straight into his eyes.

"_Chère_, not only were'ya unlucky to steal from a thief but you had the audacity to think that you could play him. I am usually a gentleman, but only when d' lady is worth it. You got my chalice, screwed up my job, destroyed it to take the jewels and probably threw something of immense value away. Why should I keep you alive?" Steps were hurrying their way.

Her green eyes reflected the fear she was experiencing. But he had never expected her to keep her voice under such control.

"Why should you kill me? You can't have the chalice back and if they are of any value to you, you can take the jewels. What good would it be to you to have me killed?"

His hand, which had been besides her head on the wall, was now tracing the line of her neck debating if he should press harder enough to stop the air. For a moment he wanted so bad to hear her beg but he realized it wasn't his business anymore. He knew better than to get personal, regardless the amount of negative emotions he was feeling. It was not worth it. He would never cross the boundaries of his solitude and peace.

With that he almost let out another growl and pulled her from the wall. He did not let go of her arm as he turned around the corner. He planted a powerful kick on the metallic backdoor of one of the buildings and pushed her inside before their pursuers would get too close.

"Up the stairs."

He ran ahead and she didn't protest, following him. At the fourth floor they heard the door bang open again and men running after them.

Remy found the door to the rooftops locked but he didn't waste a second thought in blowing it open.

They ran along the long platform until they heard the men exiting the stairwell.

Remy pulled her behind another concrete exit off the roofs. He approached the edge of the platform and looked down. There was a long way down, but between this roof and the next building there was a relatively small distance. He was sure both of them could make it.

"What are you thinking?"

He turned at her to answer to her predicament.

"We need to make a jump for the next building."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"What? No!"

She approached the edge. He couldn't understand how, even with her heart pumping so crazily, she still found the time to fight when people were chasing them.

"Look _Chère_, dere is no time for arguing. Get those shoes off and jump if you want to get alive out of this."

"Take off my shoes? Are you insane?"

He eyed her suspiciously. Had he said something offensive?

"These shoes are _Salvatore Ferragamo_. They cost a fortune and yah're asking meh to leave them behind?"

He looked at her dumbstruck. If it would have been any other man in his place, including his brother Henri, he would have been staring at this woman with a full gaping mouth. Yeah, at that moment he wished that Henri was there so he could laugh at his reaction. It would have also taught his brother to kiss Mercy's feet for how down to earth and reasonable she actually was in comparison to this _femme._

"You know what? Forget I tried. Do as you please." He put a foot on the edge of the roof. "The building will not go anywhere if you change your mind." Before he jumped he looked behind. "But …good luck with the timing."

With that he pushed his body ahead and made it to the other roof with no problem. Considering his lifestyle this was a kids' play.

He heard the woman huff angrily as if it was his fault and he was sure she had just called him names. He looked back. Still, she was refusing to jump. Instead she hid behind the wall and took one shoe off. He narrowed his eyes in interest. What was going through her head?

One of the man was approaching cautiously as she glued herself to the wall, shoe up, near her head.

_Oh, she was not going to do what he –_

Bam!

Remy closed one eye and almost winched in pain for the poor man when the high heel collided with his forehead, only inches away from his eye. He should consider himself a lucky man.

Before he could yell in pain she covered his mouth with her hand and because of his shock she managed to pull him backwards. Remy had no idea what happened next, or how she had done that, but she was slowly letting to the ground the body of the unconscious man. What had just happened?

But she put her shoe back and made her way to the fire ladder.

_Stupid woman!_ As she jumped over the rail the other man caught sight of her and ran at her. Remy brought a hand to the inner pocket of his coat. He wondered if for the first time in his life his chivalrous ways were going to dig him in a pit of troubles.

When the man reached the stairs, ready to point the gun at the woman he let out a whistle to get his attention.

The man looked up only to stare at the glowing card in Remy's hand.

"Here's an ace fo' you, _monsieur."_ With that he threw the card, exploding right in the man's face.

The woman, now halfway to the street, looked up at the explosion.

Remy watched her for a moment than pointed her towards a direction. She nodded and as soon as her feet hit the ground she made a run as they had agreed. He decided to take the roofs; have a look in case someone was approaching her. With no extra events, he let her reach the backdoor of a hotel. He jumped over the rail and slid down the narrow ladder, to the ground. She froze when he landed right in front of her.

She stepped back. "Where did you come from?"

The situation was on fire, and the timing was terrible but he couldn't let the chance slip to let out a cheesy line.

"Dropped from the sky for y' _Chère_."

But his amusement only grew when she glared at him. Hell, it was not the usual reaction he would get from women but he considered how it was far more amusing.

He pushed the door open and guided her inside with a hand behind her waist.

They made their way through the kitchen not considering the strange reactions their presence was stirring. She went for the restaurant door.

"Not good."

Remy approached her and watched through the same window, past the other exit of the restaurant, the lobby filled with black suits; and none of them looked like regular clients.

"Buscelli never knew when to quit."

He pushed past her, signalizing her to follow. They went into another corridor, with Remy taking a small cherry cake from a waiter's plateau. At the man's behavior Rogue rolled her eyes. They stepped near the end, but Remy stopped her with his arm and pointed to their left. More men were reaching the area. They were trapped. They couldn't go to the left either because the lobby was filled with them. He eyed the elevator.

Well, as a last resort he hoped that his lucky lady was on her duty for the evening.

He brought his hand to her lower back and while pushing her in plain sight he leaned over.

"Walk slowly to the elevator, not to attract any attention."

Her body stiffened but coped with the situation quite well. They were halfway there when one of the men turned and watched them. With narrowed eyes still on them he elbowed his companion.

That didn't last long. Remy pushed her forward and hit the button of the elevator. By now more than two pairs of eyes were on them and men were setting into motion, hands instinctively hiding inside their suits.

When the doors opened and both hastened in, the men broke into a real run. Remy pushed the button of the last floor and, just in case, he went for the cards in the pocket.

But the doors closed not a second too soon and Rogue let out a breath she did not know she was holding, letting her body fall on one of the walls.

Then she started to frenetically push all the buttons of the plate.

"What are you doing?"

"Misleading them."

He watched the woman with his curious wide eyes before slapping her hand away.

"Did you seriously manage to stay alive in the business this long with a childish attitude like that?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, really offended.

"Well, Ah'm sorry that not every one of us is a trained thief."

That gave him something to think over. How did she know so much about him? She had clearly faked not recognizing him at the beginning but there were things she seemed to know before he had the time to mention them; starting with his last name. He had never mentioned that.

He would have started this conversation but the lift let them know they had reached their destination. Once they stepped outside it was no need of sensitive ears to hear the men running up the stairs.

"Great, we're trapped. Do you suggest the roof again, Cajun?"

He pretended not to hear her smart tone; he was too focused on a sudden idea.

"That's probably what they'll think of too. But we're going down."

Something in his voice unsettled her.

"What do you mean down?"

"I am thinking beyond the first floor."

And her eyes fell on his object of interest.

"Oh, no we don't."

She was simply mortified at the sight of the laundry chute in the hall.

"No!"

She was starting to step backwards as he turned to watch her with determination written all over his face.

He rolled his eyes. He wouldn't admit but there was some sort of satisfaction in what he was about to do.

He grabbed her wrist before she could step out of his reach.

"This _homme _had enough of your unreasonable protests."

And before she could struggle free he locked her in his arms and pushed her forward.

"No! This is unreasonable! This is unhygienic! Do you even know what you're about to do?"

"_Chère,_ if you keep yelling any higher you can as well tell dem where we are."

He pushed the side-hinged door and lifted Rogue in his arms. "What do you think you're doing?"

Oh how he enjoyed this. He lifted her above the hole and grinned down at her.

"Put me down, swamp rat!"

_Swamp rat?_

His amusement faded. "Don't yell. _Bon voyage_." And with that dry tone he dropped her.

He heard her trying to actually suppress her voice in the fall. He put a leg on the mouth of the chute. Who was she calling swamp rat? With that he took momentum and swung over, the door falling back after him.

The landing was heaven. Not the most perfumed place but at least it was soft. The bin was filled with dirty sheets and bags of clothes.

He looked to his right to watch the woman battle out of the bin. With that his humor was back and he felt, even for a small amount of time, avenged.

With little effort he gripped the metallic edge and jumped over it.

He extended a hand to help her, but she pinned him down with a glare between the fallen bangs of her once well combed hair.

That's when he realized. Her hat had fallen and he could now watch her clear face. Also, her hair was now free to the eyes. Pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her head, her hair was a dark burgundy, the colour of his favourite wine. But those white stripes, curved elegantly over her head were captivating in a strange way. Some of those had been set free of the tight grip and were now falling around her face. He remembered the first time he had set eyes on her and remembered why he had been so enchanted by this woman.

Irritated, she blew them away and pushed his hand, gripping the bin and not so graciously rolling out. She'd rather embarrass herself than accept his hand.

His grin only got wider before he turned around and made his way to the exit to check if the path was clear.

Somehow they managed to make their way out to the streets. He looked at her and was intrigued to see that she had left the hat behind. They stepped on the main street, walking along the river, making their way through various cafes and bistros.

She felt the change in his attitude and looked at him. It was just in time to see his arm reach for her and bring his coat around her.

"There's a guy at nine o'clock."

She sighed and cooperated. Like that they continued to walk at a leisure pace. She was pretty sure that inside that long coat the only thing visible left of her were her calves. She leaned her head to his chest to hide her features better. If Remy had something to say about it he didn't let it show. He was rather comfortable with this kind of situations. She looked at his chest and to the long necklace disappearing under his shirt. She wondered what was hanged by it and hidden under his clothes. Out of curiosity she brought a hand up and started to feel his chest for some answers.

His eyes darted at her.

"What exactly are you doing?"

But she felt the outline of a ring and her hand dropped.

"How's our guy doing?"

"He looks rather lost."

"You know, nothing of this would have happened if you hadn't interfered with mah business."

"An eye for an eye, _Chérie_."

She rolled her eyes.

"Ah don't remember putting your life in danger."

He laughed. "Oh you have given me quite the heart attack." He remembered something. "Speaking of which, how have you guessed the lock number?"

He swore he could feel her smirk.

"I don't take guesses, Cajun."

"You must have. I was the only one who knew it."

She snorted, reminding him of their first encounter of the day.

"They don't call me _the Rogue _for nothing, darlin'."

He let it go, thinking of something else that have been plaguing hid mind about that night.

"What exactly did you do to me to knock me out like that? Hit to the head? Sleeping pills?" He thought of the champagne glass.

"Fuck."

He stopped because that was what she did, blocking his steps. He eyed her with wide eyes.

"_Quoi?" _He blinked and shook his head in amusement. "That can't possibly be it. It takes more than that to get dis _home_ down."

But her head snapped at him in confusion and annoyance.

"What the hell are you talking about, Cajun?" Then she turned her head eyeing the street. "They caught up with us. Blocking the street ahead as a matter of fact!"

He followed her gaze and felt like smacking himself. What was this woman doing to him? Keeping him out of focus…

He turned around.

"_Merde!"_

She did the same only to see a couple of other angry looking suits following them. They knew they have been discovered; the men stopped for a moment before quickening their steps towards the two.

They looked each other in the eyes and on a mutual agreement sent their bodies in a running motion. Problem was they went different ways so Remy had to grab her hand and hoist her after him. For the time being he had no idea where they were going and he had to come up with a plan soon. It won't take long for their pursuers to start firing.

They were running right to the cafes in the harbor and he was not sure if getting civilians involved was the best idea.

Then the first bullet flew right past them.

"God!" she jumped and yelled.

"Run faster, Chère!"

He knew if she had the time she would have stuck her heel in his leg. He was actually admiring her speed as it was. Most women would have stumbled in those shoes on a simple parade but she had quite the equilibrium. He chuckled wondering if she was often running with those monstrous things.

She dodged a table, the same table he jumped over. They ran through the tables and umbrellas and took stairs two at a time. She stopped in the rail and looked down at the river.

"Ok…what now?"

He kicked the stone wall and let his eyes wonder on the surface of the water. The bridge was blocked and it was suicidal to run against cars. Then, the exact bridge caught his attention.

He turned, each second passing as if the life was running out of him. In the park near the riverside there was a circus installation. He looked back at the ships leaving the harbor.

Without any explanations he grinned and caught her wrist.

"Come on, _Chère_."

She let herself be dragged, even though she was running as fast as she could, towards the big tent installation. The men were catching up to them.

He brought her under the large opened cupola at the entrance of the tent and from there he looked down. They were directly above the gates of the harbor from where the smaller ships were coming out; and one was making its way to them right at that moment.

"Cajun?"

She sounded worried. He couldn't blame her. With a bunch of guns pointed at them and his weird escaping plans, if he were in her place he would have felt the same. He went to one of the strong ropes running around one of the structure's pillars.

The knot glowed pink before burning out.

"Cajun… what are you doing?"

"Where is the tourist yacht now?"

She couldn't follow him.

"What yacht?"

"Below, _Chère_! Below!"

She looked over the edge, seeing the yacht's long deck appearing from under them.

"Umm… right under?"

He turned with the end of the rope in his hand. If possible her porcelain skin became even whiter.

"What are you going to do with that?"

But he came right at her and slipped an arm around her waist. He leaned over so he could speak right into her lips, his eyes fixed on hers.

"_Chère … _y'better hold on tight onto dis Cajun."

Her eyes went wide and the first thing she did was to try and push him away.

"Stop right there!"

Three of their pursuers were now picking up their breath, guns pointed at their heads.

"There is nowhere you can hide before I'll give orders to pull the triggers. Hand over the sapphire and we'll consider a less painful death for you."

Suddenly her hands stopped the pushing and clenched on his neck and chest like claws.

"That doesn't sound like much of a deal to me." As scared as she was, her stubborn mouth would find a way to get her into more trouble.

Remy grinned.

"It's been fun, _mais je suis désolé._ We must bid you farewell; and how you Italian men say, _adiós!_"

The woman arched her eyebrow.

"That's Spanish. I think you meant to say _ciao!"_

He looked down at her in annoyance. Would it have pained her to let a man have his grand exit?

But then he smirked right at her.

"So…_ Chère, _how crazy has your life been lately?"

With that he let his body fall over the rail, taking her with him.

"**Caaaajun!**"

And hell, she had a voice! It rang right into his ears.

The men on the shore let out a round of bullets but it was of no success. Remy let his body fall until the rope pulled back and threw them under the bridge. And right on time because when he let go, the wooden deck of the boat was right under their feet. He bent his knees to take shock from the hit and grabbed the metallic rail of the ship to keep both of them on their feet. He had successfully blocked Rogue in his arms not to risk having her body collide with anything.

The people on the yacht looked at them speechless whilst women let out small gasps. Fortunately, the captain was nowhere to be seen. He looked up as the ship was distancing itself from the concrete wall. He let out a powerful laugh at the sight of the men still struggling to get out of the cupola that had fallen over them. He felt a movement in his arms. The woman, still petrified and attached to his body as if he was a life preserver had lifted her head just a little to see the same sight.

When they were far enough her entire body shook and she jumped from him as if she had been burned. Like that in two steps she was as far from him as possible, gripping the rail of the ship with all her mighty.

She was still shaking.

"That has been the most terrifying near death experience in mah life." Suddenly her eyes focused and burned holes into his head. "You could have killed us both, you arrogant bastard!"

He snickered. After all he had done for this woman, she was still yelling at him. He looked at the people around them and at their shocked expressions.

He shrugged.

"She's just mad we missed the departure of the boat."

Pretending he wasn't there she went for one of the chairs. Sitting down she watched helplessly how her legs were still trembling. She brought a hand over her eyes and whispered more to herself.

"Stupid Cajun."

He went in front of her, leaning back on the railing.

"We'll have to find a way to leave the ship."

"I'm sorry?" She looked up at him. "I am barely controlling my heart and you're planning another stupid idea? What now, want to jump in this filthy water and swim?"

He coughed and glared at her, uncomfortable of the attention her voice was attracting.

"Would you mind keeping the voice down?"

But she continued to glare.

"They will be probably expecting us at the end of the tour. If we stay on the ship we're as good as dead."

She frowned, knowing by now how right he was.

The woman sighed and miraculously her state of shock disappeared. He arched an eyebrow wandering if it was ever there. She walked to him.

"I know I'll regret asking this but…" she rolled her eyes at noting in particular if not to herself. "…got any ideas?"

"Quite a few."

She was not amused by his smirk, but he went on. "There are ladders on the sides of the canal, right under the bridges. The ship will go close enough to one of the walls once they reach the touristy area. I'll make a grab for it and pull you after."

Her auburn haired head turned to stare into the water. "Sound suicidal enough to be your idea." But she didn't say anything about disapproving.

"So, _Rogue_... since we have five or six minutes to ourselves how about we try to get to know each other better?" She crossed her arms over the metallic border and transformed herself into the perfect image of a tourist.

"Nah, thank you; Ah already know everything Ah need to know'bout yah." She wrinkled her nose.

Well, she was being honest at least. He could only deduce that he had not been the only one doing the research. At that a thought crossed his mind. What if she was after the chalice from the very beginning?

"About the chalice…"

Again she rolled those beautiful eyes of hers.

"Please, don't start again!"

"How did you learn the room I was in?"

At that she looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"You did run right inside, _Chère_."

She let a short laughter.

"It was the closest door with a key." Rogue raised an eyebrow. "You haven't actually believed that story my panicked mind had come up with?"

He leaned closer to her, his eyes glimmering and his hot breath on her face. "Remy just finds it strange that y'knew exactly where t'look, _Chère_."

He had to swallow when her lips curled up in a full smile.

"Let's just say that...you were like an opened book that night. The chalice was a nice touch to the amount of money Ah took with me."

His eyes intensified and he tried to use his empathy on her.

"_Chère … _what happened that night?"

She was calm, she was serene. And the smile was still there.

"Nothing happened that night. You hit the pillow; I opened the champagne from the buffet, had a glass, took a shower, took your chalice and left the room to recover my money from where I had hidden them. Then Ah was gone."

Her smile grew at his disappointed. At least he wouldn't be feeling like an imbecile for forgetting that he had slept with such a woman. But the thought of her, walking around the room in that dress, drinking from a glass right next to him and taking a shower in his hotel bathroom did no good to his body. He had to focus, damn it. This was the reason to his misfortunes during the past month.

He wanted to tease her more, to find out more, but they had reached the bridge.

"Wait here."

With that he pushed himself up and walked to the front of the yacht. When the ladder reached his level he jumped over the rail and steadied himself on the metal bars. He looked past his shoulder, as the boat was passing, bringing the woman closer.

He secures his grip on one hand and stretched as much as he could so that she could reach him. The distance was big enough and whilst it presented no difficulties for him, she alone would have not made it.

Defeated she sighed and cautiously saddled the rail until she was on the other side of it, gripping it with her hands.

But then she looked down and had second thoughts.

He tensed his muscles to get closer to her.

"Come on, _Chère, _grab my hand."

She licked her lips and bit them. It was now or never. Like that she snapped one of the hands free and threw it after his. He held it in a tight lock and she let go of the rail. He sustained her weight until her feet finally managed to feel the bars of the ladder and her other hand was holding tightly to the vertical piece of metal.

Remy looked up at the people they had left on board. They were either in shock or taking pictured of them. He laughed and bowed from the ladder.

"Have a nice trip. Don' forget to visit the Tower of London. 'Heard dey have quite the collection of jewels… still."

Like a ritual she found herself rolling her eyes again.

"Would you move?"

He chuckled and started to make his way to the bridge. From there he extended his hand to which, this time, she did not object.

Once she was on ground she whisked her clothes and arranged her skirt.

The moment she tried to step away he caught her.

"Now, _Chère, _where do y'think you're going?"

"Well, Ah'm not staying in plain sight. Leaving this country is the first thing I plan to do."

"What about Remy's payment?"

She frowned.

"What payment?"

"Fo' keeping you alive?"

"You're the one who got me into this mess in the first place!"

"Now, now, now; Remy thinks you don't see things straight. You have some debts unpaid. And you better play nice."

She narrowed her eyes.

"I believe the jewels won't be enough to make you go away."

She was starting to be reasonable; that was good. For her.

"_Chère, _those little stones are nothing comparing with what money the chalice would have brought me."

She sighed and turned around.

"Not so fast."

"Would yah let go? Do I look to you as if I have any money on me? If you hadn't interfered I'd have both the sapphire and that damn suitcase. Now I need to make some phone calls to get your money." She saw the change in his eyes. "And don't even think to come up with a price. I know how much Dietrich had offered you and you won't see a dollar more."

"Fine. Den let's make those phone calls."

She laughed. "Like hell Ah'll phone my informants with you around. Ah'm not stupid, LeBeau!"

He pinned her down with his stare, considering her words.

"There's a hotel across the street. You'll make those calls from d'lobby. But don't try anything funny because I'll be watching you."

"Right." But with that he let go of her and she made her way to the hotel. Before entering she spotted him leaning against a lamppost having the check-in desk in his line of sight. With that she went to the check-in and started to convince the clerk to let her use the phone to make a call.

Remy, as promised, never let her out of sight. She talked to one of the men and then her hand reached for the phone. As she was busy with the call the two men talked between each other.

Whoever she was talking to it sure took her long. He considered a cigarette, but with his luck, as soon as he would taste it he'd have to throw it out.

Suddenly he felt like he was being watched. He only had to look to his right to see a policeman coming his way. He asked himself why his day couldn't just pass eventless.

"Good'day, Sir. May I see your papers, please?"

Remy looked at the British helmet.

"'Der' a problem?"

"Your papers, please."

But this time his words held nothing of the native politeness.

"I must ask you to walk away from this place."

He arched his eyebrow. Why did he have to face trouble again?

"Why so stiff, _homme_?"

"I am compelled to arrest you if you don't back away, Sir."

At that he frowned.

""M sorry?"

He looked past the man's shoulder. There, at the service entrance of the hotel one of the clerks was watching the scene, glaring at him. What the hell was going on?

"Sir; we know you've been following around the lady, threatening her. I am asking you one last time before cuffing you and bring you to the police station."

Amid the confusion in his head, a light went on. His eyes darted at the hotel's door where he found the woman smiling at him.

With a wink she started to walk away mixing with the pedestrians.

His first instinct was to growl and when he saw her quickening her steps; he set himself into motion with the policeman after him. She must have felt him because she pushed a woman aside and ran into the street, right to the bus in the station. When she disappeared behind the red double-decker he thought of nothing more than jumping into the vehicle after her. But it was too late. He had been too far and the bus was gone.

The woman stepped out to the end of the bus and smiled victoriously at him until it was out of sight.

The policeman was still bugging him but he consumed no effort in losing the fellow.

Remy was walking down the streets of London with his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and a cigarette hanging at the corner of his mouth. He had not long ago stolen a fedora that was now covering his eyes as he looked down at his shoes.

He did feel a little disappointed for letting the woman get away, but at least it had been fun. He often liked to memorize a city by associating it with a great woman he would have spent his time with. All his cities had fair skins, kissable lips, extraordinary features… London had been different. He had always imagined that his woman from London would be a duchess, of an older age, but breathtaking in her elegance. He had imagined that he'd end up spending time in a room with a high ceiling and old Edwardian furniture while rain would hit the large windows and the tiles on the balcony. But he was more than sure that London will forever remain made out of a mad chase in the evening, of bullets that had barely missed him and a green eyed woman he had dragged by the hand through the streets of the city.

He should be angry, and now he had to come up with something to tell the guild about the loss of the chalice. He was surely not going to embarrass himself by telling what he had to go through because of a woman. He already had a bad name in the guild thanks to his vices and there would be no one who would actually believe him that this time there had been no sexual encounter. In the end he hadn't finish quite bad.

The man pulled one of his hands out of his pocket, examining the content in his palm.

The black pouch was incredibly soft and his finger could feel the form of the jewel inside. After the events of this day, the price of this little thing will explode on black market; valuing more than the money of the original deal. Yes, it hadn't been a bad day at all. And he surely was glad he wasn't going to be anywhere near the woman when she would find out she had been left without the money or the sapphire. It was funny how history was repeating itself.

An eye for an eye, _Chérie_; though he had to admit hers were far more beautiful than his.


	4. Alias: The Wolverine

**a.n.: **This is chapter three. It comes earlier than predicted, which is good news. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter even it doesn't have the usual amount of action. It has…something else instead. It would be a pleasure to know your opinion after reading this update. Also, thank you, thank you, thank you for the great reviews! The more I read them, the more I wanted to write new chapters for the story!

Love you guys! Enjoy!

* * *

**Alias: The Wolverine**

* * *

"Logan, would you stop punching that misfortunate chap and listen to me?"

The man threw his fist up but stopped it near the red face, a growl escaping the corner of his mouth.

He let go of the collar and the body fell to the ground like a sack of meat. He gave the man one more look and spitted on the ground before facing the woman.

"So….who's after you this time?"

* * *

It was a late hour in the night when the auburn haired woman was searching through the drawers after a pair of new clothes while the shower was running in the corner to her right, the water crawling through the floor grates. Her shoes clapped against the concrete floor.

"Do yah even have anything clean in this rathole?" Her eyes involuntary stopped on the smashed beer cans near the wall with what was supposed to be a gas stove and a table.

She heard him mumble something under the shower which vaguely ended with a disproving _women _comment.

Shifting her weight on the other leg she turned to glare at him. But her anger died at the sight of the red water leaking to the hole in the ground.

She sighed.

"Ah though you've _retired_ from the game."

"A man has to earn his living."

She thought back at the events of that evening. He had probably set a bet (as usual) with the drunkards in the bar and had effortlessly started a brawl. That was why, when she entered the bar desperately demanding for his attention, the place looked as if a confrontation between clans had taken place. But she knew better. Regardless, she was not impressed. If anything she felt the need to sneer.

"Logan, you live in a bunker! Thanks god it's not a trailer anymore. For what life are you earning money?"

The man stopped the water and gripping a towel he made his way to the same dresser.

"Give me a break, woman! If you're not happy with it why do you keep coming back?"

But the look on her face made him regret his words on spot.

He dropped the towel on the overused dresser and pulled a pair of pants.

"I did not mean that, Marie."

She looked the other way and let out a whisper.

"I know."

He was not convinced but he shook his head as he pulled the pants to his hips.

'So, you've finally dug your own grave?"

At that she spun, a revived anger radiating from her entire being.

"It was not me, Logan! It's that stupid, piece of noting, _swamp rat_!"

"Tut-tut! You've stolen from the Thieves' Guild – dumbest thing you ever did in your life."

"That's not the problem!"

She started to pace around the room.

"Would you get those things off? They are hurting my ears."

She stopped and glared at him. But nevertheless she when to the bed, sat and proceeded to take her shoes off.

But her mood swings kicked in again and she let her face fall in her hands, whining sounds coming out of her mouth.

"I am dead."

He knew it was serious. She had told him everything on the ride to his home. Yet, at the irony, he couldn't not laugh.

"Pretty much."

She straightened and looked at him with a pained expression. His amusement disappeared for a moment.

"Damn it, Marie! Didn't you know the sapphire was commissioned for _Lucky Luciano_? Really? Lucky Luciano? What the hell were you expecting?"

"Well, Ah was expecting to get away with it and sell it back at a bigger price. That or give them the money that I should have had if that … that…..swollen-headed Cajun wouldn't have burst right in the middle of it! And now I have no sapphire and no money to trade. Luciano's _Sotto Capo _almost had me when I entered The States. The way he was staring down at me while his men held my arm in that vice! I've been through hell, Logan! And I am not out of it! Now the deal is either Ah give them back the sapphire or give them the double of the money they lost. And Ah can't do either! Because one is not in my possession anymore and I won't be able to make that sum of money not in two lives from now! And the streets are full of Luciano's men. They know Ah can't keep the deal and now they are hunting me down. Ah need a place to hide."

The man was already making his way to the fridge to get another beer.

"Nothing new there."

"Logan, would yah stop mocking me! This time is serious!"

She jumped on her feet.

But if she thought she would receive compassion from him she was so in the wrong. He snapped the can opened and turned around, practically growling at her.

"Look here, kid! I told you to stop! A thousand times! And a thousand times I had to get you out of the mess!"

"That's not true!"

"Yeah? When was the last time you did not come running to me to hide from some angry mobster you have crossed? Now you've done it! You have crossed the line and set the entire fuckin' New York Syndicate after you! So what? I've warned you! You didn't listen and now you are in shit way over your head. And all that because you are a greedy woman!"

If there was a person in the entire world who would yell back at the Wolverine whenever he was angry that was Marie.

"And what do yah want me to do? Live here, with you, in this miserable place?"

But the way he looked at her made her weak in the knees. She wished she could have cut her tongue before saying those words.

"Kid." He pinned her down with his calm but terrifying dilated pupils. "I can take anything from you but don't ever insult me like that. Have you forgotten how I picked you from the middle of nowhere? You were nothing then. And if you think those fancy clothes and that repugnant perfume make you someone now, you are wrong. In this society you are nothing!"

"No, you are wrong! _These clothes _provide me access to places you haven't even seen and they allow me to fool those arrogant people who think they rule the world."

The man sneered at her.

"Is that what you think you're doing? You're more delusional that I thought." He looked at her trembling fists. "And don't even think of pulling that 'fine, I'm leaving, I'll manage on my own' card 'cause it ain't workin'. We both know you're not going anywhere."

She looked around nervously, not wanting to see the man who was perfectly aware that he had won the battle. She swallowed. She was not going to cry because of him. Instead she went to the same drawer and looked through the clothes for a shirt. The same one she used to wear each time she'd come here. She grabbed it, and unlike the man, went to change behind the wall that was secluding the toilet from the rest of the room. The bunker, as she called it, was made only of a large room where the man had his bed, the improvised kitchen and the shower. In a corner, half hidden behind a concrete wall was a toilet and a sink with a deteriorated mirror.

"Logan… yah know Ah didn't mean that… about this place."

He sat on the bed. The scene was repeating itself, the other way around.

"I know."

She continued to talk softly.

"It's just that… I am done being a burden. I am already taking so much of you for granted… Ah don't want to have you worrying for me each day."

He let out a sarcastic laughter.

"I'd rather stand your temper each day instead of facing the storm of troubles you're bringing with you once or twice a year."

She laughed.

"Yah know? Do yah remember the first time I disappeared? Ah thought that…if I was to run away you'd end up missing me so hard yah wouldn't let me go the next time."

He paused as he drank from the can.

"You know I miss you, kid. And you know I worry about you when you leave to do god knows what."

She turned from around the wall and leaned on it, looking at him.

"You know what I mean, Logan."

Of course he knew, but he answered with silence as he brought the can once again to his lips and averted his eyes from her long legs.

She looked away as well and made her way to the fridge. After all this time it was still a heavy topic and her attempts at joking were still failing. She went to the fridge and twitched in displeasure after opening the door. Of course the empty space was staring at her, minus the bottles of water and beer cans.

She let out a low sigh and grabbed the water, hitting the fridge closed.

"I was not expecting guests."

"Whatevah." It was not like that noise generator thing was ever used for food storage.

"Marie… stop it."

She opened the bottle but refused to look at him, knowing where this was going. She stepped around the room, looking at noting in particular, the coldness of the concrete floor sending chills up her legs. "Stop hunting money. You are much better than this. Money won't make you happier. They will eventually kill you and…look how close to that you are now."

He was not a chatty man or sentimental. But he wanted her to know how much she meant, how wrong she was, to know that she shouldn't be facing life alone… like he was.

"Stay here, with me. You know there is not a single place where you can be safer than here." He frowned.

"Kid, look at me."

At first she made no move but eventually her head turned just a little so that she could watch him from the corner of her eyes, from under her furrowed eyebrows.

"Stop putting your life in danger for nothing. I am here for you."

"No, you're not." At that she fully turned, now irritated by his words. "Put yourself in my shoes, Logan. You've been raising me since I was 15. What do you want me to do with you? Follow you like a sick puppy? Be the third wheel in whatever life you have?"

She seemed to let go for a moment but a new wave on anger was about to set things on fire. She tightened the grip on the bottle.

"You don't understand. You can't! You say that I am greedy! You say that I am not grateful for the things that I have. Well, Ah don't have anything. This curse took everything away from me. I can't touch, Logan! Can you blame me? Can you blame me for taking advantage of the powers and use them in any other way that works in my advantage? I know it's not much! I know money don't mean anything compared to a real life…but it's all Ah can take. And I am not going to kick that away. Ah know it's low, Ah know it's a crime… but it's the only thing that keeps me from feeling miserable. Maybe you don't give a damn about money. But they bring me the only happiness I'll ever know. Maybe to you Ah am Marie… but for the rest of the word Ah can only be Rogue."

He snorted in both amusement and defeat. With that speech by now she used to cry. But there she was, fiercely defending herself. He hated one fact though: even if he couldn't understand, she was right.

"It doesn't have to be like that, kid. You'll always have me."

"No I won't!" she practically yelled at him. "I owe you more than my life! But that doesn't make you mine. If I truly had you, you would have stopped calling me kid a long time ago. The fact that you are the only man that Ah can touch doesn't make it any better."

Her lips were starting to tremble. "How do you think Ah feel when I sleep with yah and Ah know that your head is filled with another woman's image? Ah don't want yah to pity me! It's just...unfair".

He wanted to jump on his feet to protest, but even with a shattered voice she still managed to go on.

"But hell…Ah take you anyway… because I crave for a touch. And you are right in thinking that I am pitiful. Because it's not right and I truly wish I'd knew how to quit you."

She brought her hands up to hide her face and probably her tears, forgetting of the opened bottle with water slipping on her shirt and on the floor. He got up and walked to her. For a moment he simply stared at her, few inches shorter than him now that she wasn't wearing her heels. He didn't know what to do. He knew that nothing he would say could make her feel better. For both of them, words couldn't change anything. With that he brought his arms up and encircled them around her body, bringing her closer.

He pulled her in a tighter embrace when he read her protest.

"Stop forcing the pull Rogue! You don't want to do that." And with that she let it go and her body relaxed. Her powers had gone back to the weak effect they had on him. She could not control them, but she could slow them down enough for his regeneration to work faster than her. That's how they worked. And it pained him; because she deserved far better than he could ever be. She deserved someone who could give her more than physical touch.

She stepped back and wiped some tears with the sleeve of the shirt. Only then she seemed to realize what had happened to the half empty bottle.

"Dammit!"

She turned around, gulped as much as she could and put the bottle on the counter.

"Speaking of which….are you still stalking that redhead doctor?"

He growled.

"Marie…drop it." He hated her when she was trying to pay him back with such low hits.

He wanted to throw the empty can against the wall, next to the rest but decided not to give her another reason to start bitching. So he went to the sink behind the wall where he also had a small garbage bin. He let the can fall into the empty container, no shock there since he was barely using it, but he stopped when something caught his attention. Her clothes were folded on top of the toilet lid and on the water basin were a small bottle of perfume, a lipstick and a pill case. He grabbed it and looked inside. In an instant anger took over and he snarled.

"Marie!"

When he turned and looked at her he was barely keeping his anger under control.

"Are you still taking these?"

When he brought the case up she froze.

"Give that back! It's mahne!"

She went for the object in his hand but he grabbed her by the wrist and held it up.

"Are you taking _duller _pills?"

"None of your business!"

"Rogue! You are taking the _duller _and then you are forcing your powers thought it! Tell me I ain't right! Do you know how stupid and freakin' dangerous that is?"

She looked away. Of course he was right. She would use _the duller_ to put to sleep the activity of the mutant genes for her to get close enough to people and to show enough skin. And when she had the moment she would force her powers through the _duller _to acquire the information she wanted.

"How many of these pills do you take?"

Her eyes snapped at him.

"As few as possible. I am not an idiot."

"Well, you are! They are like poison! They are killing your system from inside only by taking them. You are not just swallowing this but you are fastening their process. You are complaining that you can't touch! Do you even know how worse will it be for you after your body will get used to them and they won't work anymore? Dear god, Rogue! You don't even realize the disaster you are running into."

At that her eyes were again on the floor.

He felt the tears coming back. He knew he was right but he wished he hadn't yelled at her.

"Has it become an addiction?"

Silence.

"No... if I can help it."

He let go of her wrist, but instead his hand traveled up her arm whilst the other one crawled up her back. He locked her in his arms and with his hand he freed her hair from the shell bun. His grip grew stronger and he deepened his face in her hair, searching for her ear.

"Stop it. Stay here, with me. Stop getting into trouble and stop destroying yourself. You have me, kid. You always will."

She didn't move. She didn't push him away but didn't answer back either.

He threw away the pill case and gripping her by the hips, he stepped towards the counter, pushing her up.

He looked at her face for a reaction but she was simply staring back at him. He brought his hand up, reaching for her porcelain skin. His fingers locked in her hair.

"Come here."

For a moment she averted her eyes. But then her own hands found their way to his chest.

He pulled her head forwards and crushed his lips on hers. The woman responded, her nose pressed against the structure of his face.

Her legs parted and he gained access to her body.

He was the only protective figure she had but he was also a man. It was very strange this situation of theirs. A moment ago he could not see anything in her besides the kid he had picked up from the streets. Though, to be more precise, she had been the one to pick his beaten body and hide him under pieces of cardboards. And usually she was just that. But everything changed when he'd kiss her. She had an intoxicating smell when aroused that would kill everything human in him and let out the beast. There was no love and no relationship. It was true. She would be the only woman he would die for but because he never felt so similar to another human; because she wouldn't run when he was out of control; because she was hurting the same way he was; because she needed him the same way he needed her. He would bring her protection and she would give him peace and keep him human. But the animal in him couldn't say no to her. To that she was not a kid; she was not a friend; she was temptation and arousal.

His hands had found their way under the shirt. The small pull of her powers was just firing him up. It was making the fight for dominance more thrilling. And she herself, was not a quiet lover. As everything she would do, she had passion burning out. She would never submit even if the end was inevitable; and his beasty growls were a sign powerful enough to express his contentment.

When her toes slipped the line of his pants, pushing them down, he growled again. He gripped her and attaching her to his body, he walked her to the bed, her arms around his neck. He pushed her on the duvets and pushed himself on her. Her body was twisting in curves, sending chills of desire down his spine; but what was amazing about this _rogue _was that while her body was sending the wolf into the depths of anxiety, her full lips were caressing his jaw and lullabying the needy monster away. That was Rogue. And he was lucky to have her so dependable on him. She was like a medicine. And he was not only lucky; he was ungrateful; because of her condition he was the only one to learn all those wonderful things about her. He knew there had been a time when she had thought that she was in love with him. It has passed and he wished he could love her. The way she wanted, the way she deserved. It would have made things better for both of them. But there were too many scars on both sides and they knew no other way to cover them up. There was no victim and no harasser. There was no guilt or shame. He would give her what she was desiring most: touch; and he would receive the only thing he would beg for in life: tranquility. Always, after being with her she would dry him enough to throw him in a dreamless sleep, away from the nightmares, from memories that haunted him. Next to her he would fall into the most quiet and profound sleep.

* * *

Her green eyes opened sluggishly and adjusted to the darkness. She tilted her head and rough hair tickled the side of her face. She smiled, the man's warm breath pushing on her neck. Her throat felt dry and her mind started to wonder if there was more water left in her opened bottle.

Slowly and quietly she crawled away from him, grabbing the shirt from the mess of fabrics on the bed. She couldn't understand him. Most of the time one couldn't get 3 feet close to him without Logan noticing the presence and wake up; but whenever they happened to … do more than share the bed one could run around him without a single reaction from him.

The woman sighed and tiptoed to the counter. After all this time, she was still not ready to try her luck. Luckily, she found the bottle easily. She leaned with her hips against the counter and brought the bottle to her lips, eyeing the sleeping man.

She shouldn't have done it. Deep inside she knew it had been her reactions what made him take the decision of sleeping with her. She was being unfair simply because she never knew how to take 'no' for an answer.

What could be done? She was in trouble way over her head and the only safe place she knew was near Logan. But he was right. She couldn't keep coming back whenever she needed help. When she had first run away was in order to grow up and learn to live on her own. But running back to Logan whenever her life was in danger because of her own mistakes was not growing up. She sighed and her hand went up to her neck, playing with the thin golden chain.

She had to move on. She couldn't be Logan's burden anymore. But she needed a plan. It was clear that on her own she couldn't make it. She needed protection. But with a single scan of her memory, most of the people she knew not only that they wouldn't help her but they would probably jump on the phone to sell her away. And by most she was being generous; Logan was the only exception. Damn, he was right again; she only knew how to make enemies.

She almost let out a frustrated yell but stopped cautiously. With the necklace dropped from her hand the cold ring hit the skin of her breast.

She looked down at it and frustration grew again. With a nervous move she pulled the thing from around her neck and held it hanging in front of her face.

_He _was the reason why she was in this mess! He had gone away with her sapphire and all she got instead was this lousy ring. Her teeth would value more that the ring if she were to sell them to Luciano. She wanted to throw it away and she would have done so if she didn't think that the sound would wake up Logan. Defeated, she sighed. She took the ring from the necklace and absentmindedly put it on her finger. At least it had a nice diamond; it was tiny but it didn't look half bad…. Who was she kidding? It looked like something her grandma would wear… if she had one. Whatever was he doing wearing something like that? She grinned amused at her own bad humour. Maybe it was from his girlfriend….with bad tastes. Unfortunately…scratch that – fortunately, she hadn't absorbed much of him. She must have still be fighting the effect of the duller because she took very little from him. Really now, why would he wear something so silly?

The more she thought about it the more her anger was refilled. To hell with that swamp rat! He has been the one to write her sentence to death, he should get her out of it.

Now…that didn't sound like a bad idea. Though, she was sure Logan would be of another opinion. But now that she thought about it…. her eyes fell back on the ring as if it was inspirational. And it worked because a plan hit her with the speed of light. Why hadn't she thought of it right from the beginning? He was the answer. And if he wasn't going to help her out of his own will she'll make him. She'll corner him so bad he'll never forget her name.

Grinning she looked at the sleeping man. She should leave him a note so he won't freak out in the morning.

Yes, the Rogue was back in the game.

Her eyes fell on her red _Salvatore Ferragamo_ pair. She felt it was time for a new pair of shoes.


	5. alibi: the fiancée

**a.n.**: And here is the 4th chapter of the story. A great thank you for all the reviews I received. Because of them I was excited to write this chapter so soon. I really appreciated each and every one of them. Hoping that this chapter was worth the waiting, enjoy!

* * *

**alibi: the fiancée**

* * *

Ah, the warm, rich smell of ol'Bayou. There were many things that would make Remy a happy _homme_ but no liqueur would intoxicate him, no piece of jewelry would tempt him and no lips would get him to commit the way New Orleans did. He had grown on the streets of this city and when he was to die we wanted to be guilty of this city's sin. With its hot days and humid nights, Louisiana was the only woman he would always come back to. And so he was now, stepping down the marbles in front of LeBeau's estate. At the entrance his eyes registered two of his family's watchdogs. Truth being told they were part of the family, of a smaller branch, but in this clan, each had their position. Normal eyes wouldn't have spotted them, but Remy knew that the house they had in the swamps had eyes and ears everywhere. He dismissed the strange vibe he caught from them when he nodded. They had immediately returned the gesture but their bodies had turned stiff. Though, it came to no surprise. He hadn't been home in such a long time and even if the members of the main family would fool around with each other, the protocol was otherwise, very strict.

He grinned as he approached the door. There were so many differences between a guild and a regular mafia organization. Most of those mafia families came from Europe and were working in a 'modern' environment; with new laws, under 'modern' perimeters. That's why whoever thought of comparing the two would be called a fool. The Thieves Guild, much like The Assassins, with whom they were sharing the monopole over Louisiana, were much older than this 'modern' net of underground movements. He wouldn't use the word new but rather 'modern' half in amusement half in acknowledge. That's what they were calling themselves anyway. But the guild was another story. They were as powerful as they were old. Running for centuries, the guild had a history that, frankly, he had never bothered to fully grasp. He had been more that grateful to Jean-Luc for everything the man had done for him and in his lifetime, he was bound to pay him back. Rather a disproportional deal, but Remy couldn't be happier with it. Instead of spending his life on the muddy back alleys of New Orleans he had ended up calling home a luxurious estate in the south and being part of a rather awkwardbut otherwise a caring family. He was thrilled with anticipation thinking that he'll get to see them again and spend days and nights without care in the comfort of his home; he missed Tante with her heavenly cooking and her constant care for him, he missed even his _fous cousins _Emil and Etienne and how he'd always play them at poker, heck, he even missed Henry's foul temper. But he was about to step the threshold and get enough of that until he'll feel the need to leave again.

Remy opened the mahogany door and let himself in. He was surprised to see Emil's profile at the end of the corridor. He seemed to be chatting with someone in the parlor by the way he was nodding, grinning and nonchalantly drinking from a glass. He must have sensed him because as soon as Remy closed the door the man turned to him.

In a single instant his eyes went wide and his mouth hanged opened, the liquid dropping down his chin on his shirt. The wet feeling must have brought him to reality as he tried to clasp his mouth shut and in a chaotic representation that only his cousin could give the grin was back on his face and he started to run right at him.

"_Mon Dieu! _Remy, I can't believe you showed up!" He hugged the man and with the same funny face he started to check him up and down in disbelief.

Remy laughed.

"What happened to you, _Lapin?_ You look like you've seen a ghost."

At that the blonde's petrified face shattered as he started to laugh.

"Well…. I might just exercise now in case you'll haunt the house if Jean-Luc decides to skin you alive."

He frowned. "Skin me alive?"

He eyed the man who was currently retaking his stupefaction expression.

"What are you talking about? Is there something wrong going on?"

He clasped his hand over his mouth and, so expectable from Emil, he started to laugh vigorously. Oh, he knew that laugh. Emil only used to laugh like that when he was in trouble.

"_Dieu, _Remy, this is precious! Actually, no - wait… that's so ten thousand times worse from you. You were actually _that drunk?"_

That stopped his entire system from responding.

"Eh?"

Between Emil's barked laughter they heard a door slam.

Emil's laugher died but he could barely contain his giggles when he put, what he imagined to be a comforting hand over Remy's shoulder.

"_Cousin, _because I still care about you, regardless all those times you've set me up and left me to receive the end of Tante'srolling pin induced punishments, I am warning you: nod to everything that Jean-Luc is saying, and don't look him in the eyes." They heard steppes hurrying towards them. Emile faked a gulp. "Do not reveal that you can't remember anything; at all! I don't want you to be disinherited…. or worse, exiled. Imagine how dull things will be around here with only Henry in line."

Emil's joke had gone too far.

"What is this nonsense? Emil, what are you playin' at?"

"So, the jewel of this family has decided to finally show up!"

His blood froze. Right that moment he would take back those thoughts he had had not long ago. Henry not only was standing to his temper reputation but he sounded positively red with anger.

Remy looked past his cousin's shoulder. At the other end of the hall, his older brother was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and next to him, his beautiful wife was smiling sheepishly as if trying to tell Remy that she had tried her best to calm him down.

"I am actually impressed. Either y' have decided t'grow a backbone or you are more of an idiot that I have ever thought."

Remy sensed a grave headache settling. Why was it never easy to come back home. Couldn't they for once just greet him nicely and share some bourbon?

"Would anyone explain what is going on here?"

Emil hissed. "Ouch….. I told you to pretend you have the hang of the situation."

He had tried to whisper but Remy was slowly losing his temper and yelled in return.

"What goddamn situation?"

He advanced towards the parlor.

But instead of answering, Henry stared at him with an expression of complete disapproval and disdain.

"Maybe I should let you have this conversation with _père. _The boys from outside told us about your return and he is now waiting for you in his office."

"I am not moving from this spot until someone starts explaining what is going on here. What am I being accused of? Because Remy feels as if he's being taken to a damn trial."

His brother's expression darkened before he turned and started walking.

"Y'are."

Remy looked at Mercy for answers but he was shocked to find her having a battle with herself to either feel sorry for him or excited about what was going to come. Mercy was a foxy woman; most of the time they were friends; but when it came to sadism in the family, she was the queen.

Afraid that he might squeeze answers out of her she ran after Henry.

"You're staying here, Mercy!"

"And lose all the fun? Like hell I will! And you are not the man to stop me. Nothing so exciting happened in this family since Remy was 17 and threatened to become a monk if you'd make him marry Belle!"

He huffed. "Yeah, s'me threat! As you can see he can't keep away from between a woman's legs if his life would to depend on it. " To cut Remy off, who was not following them with the sheer though of protesting, he went on. "You'll take a seat and won't say a word to it. And no, Emil, you can't come. This is a personal trial for the LeBeaus."

Remy was about to grab his brother's arm but the door of the office was opened. There was only one way to sort things out; so he stomped past them and inside the office. The second he did that he could only be thankful that this was happening in his father's office and not in the large meeting room with others members of the guild assisting. Only once he had seen his father wearing such a threatening face and that had been when the Assassins had planned his death and trespassed the code of the guilds.

The fact that he was sitting in his chair, arms on the table and a dark, calm expression on his face triggered all the alarms in his head. At least if Jean-Luc had been waiting for him with a tremendous rage he would have known that there was at least a way to fix things. But this was bad. And he was not even looking at him. He was waiting for him to take a seat. Henry closed the door after him.

Remy cursed. What the hell was wrong with him? He was here to defend himself. No! He had no reason to defend himself. He had done nothing wrong. The only thing he did while away was to fill the accounts of the LeBeaus, and he was sure that was not it. But, nevertheless, when Jean-Luc was in the room it as an unwritten rule not to speak before he did.

And so, after a long moment of agonizing silence the man cleared his throat.

"I am not interested in whatever you and your brother were shouting at each other in the hall. I'll make things simple for y'." He looked at him as if the moment of truth was about to come.

"Remy, I'll ask y' just once and we are done: where is Rochelle's ring?"

The man stopped from breathing. His grandmother's ring. The ring of the family and the one that he had lost in one of his missions. How could they have known? How would he explain? He had been searching for it endlessly. Had Forge sold him out? His headache was only getting worse. He brought a hand up and passed it through his hair. It was a bad habit he'd do when he was nervous. There was no reason to deny it anyway.

"I can explain."

"Can you?" But suddenly hell broke free. "Or should I send y' straight to the Assassin's to let **you **explain them why we have to back down from our marriage agreement?" The calm Jean-Luc was gone as he had jumped on his feet almost knocking the chair to the ground.

Remy watched him with eyes wide open.

"Well… if you'd ask me that is good news but from the way things are going around here I'll keep my opinions to m'self."

That must have triggered the last amount of composure that the head of the LeBeaus had.

"You think this is funny? You think all the time we spent trying to contact you while keeping the entire situation secret from the Assassins is funny? You think dragging out name into mud is funny?"

That had hit the strings of his own nerves.

"Would everyone stop yelling and tell me for once what am I being charged with? You keep pointing at me and throwing insults without even spilling it out. I lost the ring! I know! I can't remember when and where! I lost it!"

He thought that his outburst, even if it would annoy him, it would at least calm everyone down. But the glares his father was sending him had instantly become colder.

"Is that your excuse? Then I am sure you will find another quick excuse for her too."

He frowned in confusion.

"_Her_?"

He didn't know why but for some reasons his instincts felt like set on fire and the floor felt like it was about to disappear from under his feet. There was a knock at the door and a sensation of vertigo took over him.

Emil first looked inside then he stepped in, leaving the door opened.

"Your _fiancée_, Remy!"

At his father's words his voice died and what was supposed to be a shout of indignation had come out as a confused whisper.

The younger man nodded at Jean-Luc, not daring to look at him directly.

"She'll be here in a few seconds."

Emil knew it was his place to leave but he grasped the opportunity given by the fact that no one seemed to care about him and stepped towards Remy. A look of twisted pity in a fail attempt to hide his amusement crossed his face as he patted him on the shoulder. He whispered as low as he could.

"You were right. Act as if you don't remember anything. Pretend you've never seen her in your entire life. Do this for me, cousin! I like you too much."

In his state of dizziness he felt like punching his sadistic cousin but that instant someone entered the room and his entire being felt crushed out of his body. Oh, the speed of his ride to hell was as unbearable as the long porcelain legs and the emerald eyes shyly falling on him from under those long lashes.

"YOU!"

Emil sighed defeated. "You'd never listen to my advices, would you?"

The shy vibes that her entire body was giving soon disappeared as the woman practically swung at his neck. But if he thought she was going to hit him Remy found out that she was kissing him all over. Well, that didn't feel half bad. But he came to his senses before it was too late and started to push her off him.

"Oh Gawd, Remy! You are finally here!"

He took her by the shoulders and kept her at a safe distance from him.

"What. are. you. doing. here?" But his brain worked fast even in these situations. So he dropped hisgaze in the same time with his hand and gripped her left wrist, bringing her hand up. "What is this?" Because as clear as day, on her ring finger was exactly the ring he _thought _he had _lost. _He was sure air wasn't reaching his brain anymore at the implications of the disaster he was facing.

"Well, I had my things packed and waited for you the entire night. When you didn't return I thought you were caught up with business so I came here all by myself!"

He was watching in mortification the woman, who had had so cunningly placed him in the trajectory of bullets, now looking abashed and flustered.

He felt the need to swallow. Remy had a funny feeling that people around the room were waiting for him to react.

But she beat him at it and how he was to regret it.

Because her face reflected small glimpses of sadness until those eyes started to water. Oh, damn!

Her chin started to tremble and she looked as if she had reached a cold realization. She stepped back and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh!" was all that she seemed capable of saying.

Remy stared to panic; and not for the good reasons. She dropped the hand and bit her lip to stop a sob. Nevertheless, it still came out. He sighed frustrated. What was this woman trying to accomplish.

"Look, _chère_ –" he stopped and gaped. He couldn't believe he had fallen for it! He and his stupid language! It was for a second, but her mask dropped and they both knew she had won. "Oh no! That's not what I meant and you know it!" he couldn't believe that he was actually pointing at her in anger.

But she went on.

"I…I get it." She looked down, averted her eyes as if facing him was the hardest thing. "You.- you never meant to come back for me."

He sighed. Really? He had no idea what she wanted to obtain with this but he had long ago figured her game. And her acting was so obvious that no one could believe her. He glanced at Henry and Mercy. Frightened, he watched as his father was crossing his arms.

"No, no, no, no. no! Y' can't actually bel-"

"NO! Rems…" she looked at him with begging eyes, a bitter smile at the corner of her lips. "..it's alright. I understand."

He only thought how murderous he must have looked at that moment.

"It's not – alright!"

But she jumped and silenced him with a trembling finger over his lips.

"Shh-shh-shh, darlin'. I am at fault for coming here. I must have known it was too perfect to be true. But it's alright. I am …used to people leaving me behind."

He surely hoped he wasn't gaping at her.

She cleared her voice as if not to start crying. "Here…I'll…I'll give back your ring." And with an agonizing movement she reached for the ring and started to pull it out.

His hands went for her shoulders again so powerfully that she jumped.

"Aw! Stop it! Ah'm leaving. I know when I am not wanted anymore!"

"Ooooh, you will leave. Because I'll kick you out of this house myself! But you have some answers to give!"

"Remy!" That was his brother's voice; he had instantly taken a step closer to them, alarmed by his brother attitude.

"Ah told you, ah'll leave! Stop acting like a brute. If you think you can play with mah feelings and throw me away after, fine. But I won't allow you to treat me like that."

"Oh you insufferable woman! Don't tell me you are actually going to cry now! I want to see that- "

_Hell, that hurt!_

Henry stopped in midstep, Jean-Luc froze with his arms out of lock and Remy..well…he was forced to face the wooden surface of the desk, the smarting pain of the slap still on his left cheek. Mercy was the first one to react as she brought her hand up to her lips to stop the threatening laugher, which would have been out of place.

Remy opened his mouth and stretched the muscles of his jaw to regain control over his left side. But he didn't need to dart his eyes at the woman to have her petrified at her actions.

Soo…she might have played a little too well because she knew to jump out of his reach before the snarl left his mouth. He went to grab her but she was already on the other side of the desk, much closer to Jean-Luc, eyeing his son with caution.

Remy thanked himself for having self-control, even if it was running thin right now. Instead of jumping at her he slammed one of his hands into the desk.

"We. need. to. talk…." He glared at her with his face still turned down. "… _**chère.**__"_

She stopped herself from swallowing.

"Ta-talk is good!" She wanted to step from behind the desk but in turn she took a step back.

"But if you try anything –"

"Outside!"

She brought her chin up, trying to look convincing.: "-Ah'll kick you in the-"

His arm snapped up, pointing at the door.

"_Now!"_

This time her hand was not enough to keep Mercy from giggling and Henry didn't hesitate to frown at her.

The woman stepped from her spot but kept her distance from Remy. Also, her eyes were on him in case she had to run.

He let out a sight more to tighten the grasp on what should be self-control. His older brother glared at him and as he made his way to the door the man glanced at Jean-Luc.

"Remy."

To the thundering voice of his father he did his best not to snap. He knew what it was for. They were worried that he'd do something stupid, with the level of anger he had. But right now, he couldn't care less.

"Remy, stay right there. We are not finished."

The woman stepped outside and looked back.

"Not now!" his fist trembled in fury as all he could do was to half turn his profile. Only then he glowered back at the woman.

"_We _have some business to talk…. _privately_!"

And no one stopped him. Jean-Luc, as much as he had been thrown to the ground by the events of the entire week, still hoped that his son had all the right answers. Remy stepped outside showing her to walk right in front of him. She wanted to stop at some point to say something but he verbally pushed her up the stairs.

"Move."

Henry went to lean on the door frame to watch them disappear towards the dormitories. They heard the door from Remy's door slam shut and they spent the next seconds in silence.

"Well… that went better than expected."

All eyes were instantly on the woman. Emil let out a short laugh only to choke on it when Jean-Luc darted him.

"I shouldn't be here. Please excuse me."

With that he stormed out of the room.

* * *

The sound of the closing door rang in her head as she stepped back and had nothing else to do than to accept that she was now trapped between the wall and the furious man who reminded her of a dragon blowing steam.

"What the hell are you doing here, woman!"

She turned her head and kept her eyes tightly closed.

"Could you -… step aside?" He was so close to her she felt she couldn't breathe. "You are intruding my personal space."

"Personal space? You are in my house! In my bedroom! Wearing the engagement ring and posing as _my_ betrothed! I am sorry, I think I misheard you asking for _personal_ **space**!"

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Would yah step back? That thing that you are doing will not scare meh!" Of course, that had been by far the most see-truth lie she has ever told him.

"Y' have three minutes to explain dis before I'll really turn into d'bad guy!"

She tried to compose herself.

"Better yet, in three minutes, if we do this right, I'll be forever out of your live."

He put his lips into a thin line.

"Out of m'life, _chère_**?** I doubt it! Y' have no idea what you have gotten yourself into with whatever stupid plan you had."

"Oh trust me, I know enough. Regardless, that's not the point. You don't want me out of this house more than Ah do. At first it should have been simple. I wouldn't have had to use so many lies on your family if you had been _here_."

His free hand went after her left one.

"How did you get the ring?'"

She huffed as if he had offended her.

"I stole it from you in London." She sighed. "Please, step back… it's uncomfortable!" And she looked very much so.

"I was aiming for that."

She couldn't take it anymore. She pinned her hands to his chest and at least blocked him from crushing her into the wall. She had taken a couple of pills that evening but they wouldn't take away the discomfort at physical touch. At least with that much of a distance achieved, for the first time she looked up at him. The sooner she'll get things right the sooner she will leave this place.

"Look. You stole that sapphire and I want it back. You will give it to me and I am out! Simple as that! Ah know there is an entire deal about the ring, passing though generation and the unwritten marriage law in the Thieves' guild but you can tell your family anything! You can tell them that I died, got killed – Ah don't care! Whatever works for yah! Just give me the damn jewel and Ah'll be out this door right away."

At that he leaned away from her and he took the hand he had on the wall.

"All this is fo' the sapphire?"

But he must have said something because whatever fear was holding her temper back was now gone.

"Yeah! All this for the sapphire! Now do yah mind?"

With that he stepped back and passed his tongue over his lower lip. He narrowed his eyes and followed her reaction that was about to come after the things he had to say.

"Can't do."

Yes, she was on a rampage.

"What do yah mean 'can't do'. Are you insane? Give me the stone. "

"Told y'. You've reached a dead end because that jewel is already sold."

Her anger disappeared. The power in her eyes disappeared; and so seemed to have happened to the blood from her face and the stability in her knees. He though she would fall from her feet.

"Oh god…" He stepped out of her way when she tried to walk into the room with her eyes set on his bed.

Oh, Remy was still angry but right now he was also confused. He though she would sit but she spun back at him.

"To whom? Can you get it back?"

He frowned. "Why would I get it back? And the answer to your first question. that would be Meyer Lansky. He offered quite the price."

But he was sure her body had hit the bed before he had the chance to finish his sentence.

She looked positively livid and he though she was going to cry. She gaped in total shock and her hand started to shake. But the shake turned out into violent waves as she was trying to fan herself.

"I'm dead." She hid her face in both her hands and incomprehensive words were reaching his ears. And all that he could do was to raise a questioning eyebrow. He was pretty sure that was not how their 'conversation' should have turned out.

"I can't believe this is happening. They'll have my head. Oh gawd, Ah don't want to die."

He was trying to make sense of what she was mumbling about. When he wanted to step closer she almost scared him and everything took a turn of events….again.

"Hold on a minute!" And with that she was up and staring right at him. "I'm not in this alone! _** You**_ were there with me!"

And suddenly there were no more tears and no more trembling.

"Oh course! Corsario kept asking about a damn partner but my arm was in too much of a pain to concentrate on it. It was you!"

He stepped towards her.

"What the hell are y' talking about? Isn't CorsarioLucky Luciano's right hand?"

"Of course he is. Ah stole the sapphire from him." And with that he stepped back at the news, an expression of dread on his face that in the dark of the room went unnoticed to her. "..well…until someone took it from me."

She shook her head. "Point is" Her hands went to her hips and she glared at him. "They want it back. That or my head rolls. Oh, no…wait… here comes the funny part." She faked a laughter then the glare was back . "**Our **heads."

"Rewind, _chère._ Y' are making no sense."

She continued to stare at him but she took a breath and cleared her voice.

"Ok, fahne! Ah was in London to steal the sapphire from Buscelli, who had sold the sapphire to Luciano. Remember that creepy guy from the train station? That was Luciano's 'delivery man'." She paused from her smart speech and eyed him skeptically. "Who, if you remember clearly, did not see me stealing it; he saw **us, **_working toooo-getherrrr." _Her finger went pointing between them. "We weren't; but that's what he saw and that must have been what he reported." She crossed her arms over her chest. "That explains why, when Corsario caught me entering The States he also seemed interested in a partner that apparently I had." At that she sneered. "For the record, now Ah hate thieves even more. Can't yah be less sneakyall the time? Maybe they would have gotten you for a change."

Remy wanted to say something but realized that he had no idea what. His headache was back. He kneaded his forehead. Oh how he was regretting London. He knew this woman was bad news. He should have listened to his instincts, take the sapphire and leave her on her own. In what a mess he was.

"Isn't Lansky at throats with Luciano lately?"

Yes, that was his problem also and she was kind enough to word it out. If only he would have known that the sapphire was commissioned for Luciano. He looked at her only to see her eyes widen in horror. Yes, it hit her. Their problems had just doubled. Hold on a minute! Since when did he start using 'their'?

"Look. We have two options. It's either we get the sapphire back or we have to pay Luciano double the price of the stone. Which brings me to ask: how much did you get for it?"

He frowned. "150 million dollars. But let _moi_ make this clear for y': dere's no _us _in dis!"

Her eyes went wide and she was about to yell over her lungs if not for the hand she slapped over her mouth.

"One hundred fifty… Are you insane! It was merely worth sixty when I stole it! How the hell did you get that much on it?" she was speaking so fast that she thought she would loseher breath.

"Well, you helped a lot with that London affair. Price went through the roof as soon as the black-markets heard of the events. And _chère_**,**you don't care much 'bout history, do y'? That sapphire was rumored to have belonged to Kösem Sultan, one of the most powerful women in the Ottoman Empire. Of course this rumor would set the most avid collectors after the sapphire." Falling back into his old interests was calming him down.

She furrowed her eyebrows at his story, clearly not impressed.

"Yeah, well… try to see it from where Ah'm standing. It's the stone, 300 million dollars or our _heads! _Which one do yah think we can provide Luciano first?"

And that killed his mood and successfully managed to throw him again in the hell he was facing. Double, she has said double.

The woman crossed her arms to her chest.

"So, any suggestion on how to get the stone back?"

"Besides the fact that Remy has to remind you dat you are alone in this, you can't get the stone back. We're talking about Lansky here. You, on your own, have no chance and I am not doing it. It will be pure luck if he won't come and track me down as soon as he'll learn that the sapphire comes from Luciano. Remy will fall as the agitator between the two mafia groups. And dere's also an old grudge between the two of us that I have managed to erase with the sapphire deal. Not going to ruin everything now."

The man looked around. He was tired and he needed at least something to lean against. So he made his way to the dresser. When he looked up at the woman she looked to be in deep thoughts. He actually thought he could hear the wheels in her brain working.

Then she bought a finger in the air, still focusing on a spot on the floor.

"So, what yah're saying is that if Lansky suspects that you have intentionally sold him the sapphire to set the syndicate in chaos you're literally food for fish."

Instantly his body turned to stone. What was she thinking of?

"Why would he think that?"

She eyed him slyly.

"Suppose someone would tell him that."

He straightened his body away from the dresser.

"For that kind of information… not only would Ah get protection _but_ maybe some money too."

As she grinned he started to glare.

With that she moved closer to him, a renewed smile on her face.

She extended her hand for a formal shake but of course he made no move. The woman was not bothered.

"Well, Mr LeBeau, it seems that in the end it has been a pleasure to do business with yah. Now, if yah'll excuse me. Ah know yah'll try to stop me so no hard feelings for this."

Before he could grasp the meaning of her words her foot was up and smashing his owe with the pointy heel.

With that she jumped towards the door and made it in the hall.

He swallowed the pain and pushed his body forward.

"_Merde_!" He sprinted after her and as soon as she caught sight of his approaching form she tried to run. She made it to the stairs when he caught her by the arms.

"Let go of meh, Cajun!"

The people in the parlorfroze at the sight of the two.

"Y're not going anywhere,_ chère_" He hissed both in anger and pain.

"Like hell Ah won't! Get your hands off meh before Ah smash your arrogant face!"

He secured her struggling form.

"Y're crazy if y' think I am going to let you out of my sight even for a second."

He turned her around and started to drag her back, towards his room.

She wouldn't stop to fight out of his grip and it was getting really annoying.

"Let go! Yah have no right to keep me here."

"Oh but Remy does, don't y'remember? Y're Remy's _fiancée."_

"Oh no, we're no-"

But he violently pushed her inside and locked the door, right before she would jump back at him.

Henry, who had ran upstairs to stop the fight was now near the staircase.

The woman was slapping and hitting the door from the other side.

"Swamp rat! Let me out of this room, now!"

"Y're not leaving dis house!"

"Unlock the door or Ah'll use the window if I have to."

"Be my guest! But first you'd have to take down those shoes of yours and leave them behind. S' good luck with that."

As if the word 'shoes' was a trigger he remembered the pain in his foot.

"Those stupid shoes. I'll take them dem off myself and burn them."

Remy looked at his brother, his heart racing out of his chest.

He pushed a hand through his hair and tried to regain his cool acting.

"_Quoi? _She's feisty!"

He made his way past his brother and did not look at anyone in the parlor.

Mercy took a sip from her glass of bourbon and elbowed Emil.

"I wonder what made him change his mind. He wanted her out the door just minutes ago."

At her biting humour the man tried to suppress his laughter.

"Remy, where do you think you're going?"

Jean-Luc frowned as his son made his way to the corridor to leave the house.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll talk; when my head stops hurting." He stopped and turned around, looking at them.

"Don't let her out of the room." He was about to move when another thought caught up with him. "And ask Christophe and Paul to guard the balcony of my room also."

With that he did not stop at any protest that his brother or father might bring out.

He slammed the door after him and walked to one of his brother's cars. He needed to get away from this place and into the heart of New Orleans as soon as possible. Get drunk and at least for a night pretend that he wasn't in a mess he couldn't handle. Maybe Lynette was still working at his favourite bar. Maybe he'll drink himself to death and that woman will become someone else's problem.


	6. first act: the morning after

First Act: the morning after

* * *

Only the next morning did Remy return to the house. And it still felt too soon. He had drunk all his money from his pockets and that proved to be not enough to pull him out of his misery. When he had tried to gamble for more he discovered that his mind wouldn't focus on the cards. That's how deep in shit he felt like. After he waited for Lynette to close the bar they started to make out it the back alley and she proved to be as capable as he remembered the sweet vixen to be, lifting worry after worry from his mind. But all that it took was for him to close his eyes in pleasure and his thoughts were instantly flooded by the full red lips and that long dress he had laid eyes upon in Paris. That was all that it took to remind him of his situation and the woman he had locked in his room. Lynette has tried all night long to empty his mind of his problems but it only lasted for a couple of minutes. When the morning came he realized that only the hangover he was experiencing was actually managing to ease the burden.

He pushed the front door closed with his foot. As he made his way into the parlor he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. Something that did not belong there caught his attention and he brought his left hand out of the pocket. He brought the hand up, in front of him and stared in disbelief at the pair of lace underwear**. **Lynettehad a real twisted sense of humour. She had gotten him into so many troubles with Bella Dona before, why would she stop now? Thanks god he was not married yet… hmph…funny thought, actually. Through the black lace he distinguished a silhouette, sitting on the sofa. He lowered the piece of undergarment to face the disapproving look that his big brother was throwing him.

But Remy only glanced thirsty at the cup of coffee on the small table and shrugged.

"Told you Remy needed t' clear his head."

"Do you know what hour it is?"

"_Non_, not really."

He pushed the underwear back into the pocket.

'It's almost noon.'

'Hm…' His head hurt too much to be bothered. His brother was going to explode with insults again so what was the point in defending himself.

But it never came. Henri lifted his coffee and kept it in his hands, taunting him. But his features softened and instead of pure anger he was actually watching him with some sort of satisfactory indifference.

That got Remy worried.

"What? No yellin' ? No lecturing?"

"No, not really. I had a talk with Mercy this morning. And she's right. You are already in a big mess. You'll have to struggle out of it on your own."

The man rolled his eyes. "How considerate of you." he whispered.

But then something more confusing happened. His brother tried to hide a sadistic smile behind his cup of coffee.

"What?" he almost hissed irritated by his attitude.

"Ask your dear little cousin."

Right then, from the door leading to the dining room appeared the exact person entitled with the answers. If anything he looked worse than Remy. If he hadn't known better he would have thought that Étienne had been the one drinking all night long.

"What happened to you?"

At Remy's voice the man froze.

"Eh..you're…home…."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Spill it out, _fool!_"

As if he had a gun pointed at his head he let it all out in a breath.

"She's gone."

Seconds passed before Remy spoke again.

"_Pardon?"_

Étienne wanted to jump up in defense but a sudden pain cut his head. So he grimaced and cupped his temples.

"She's gone. Look I went upstairs last evening after you left. Mercy sent me to get her som'food. I have no idea what she did. I stepped into your room. It was dark. She was there, I approached her with the tray and left it on the bed and then… I swear I can't remember a thing. She must have hit me with something because I was knocked out ."

Remy felt his blood pressure rising.

"I thought I told you not to let her out! How the hell did she get past all of you?"

"I don't know! I swear! We've been looking for her since last night! You know we have men everywhere around the premises. No one saw her. People have been looking for her in town as well. Not a single trace. It's as if she disappeared."

"And why the fuck did you not sent word?"

"Well… we thought that... she couldn't be hard to find… but…"

He was panicking. He was seriously panicking. Remy couldn't remember when was the last time when he felt so unfortunate. Drops of sweat were appearing at his temples. His mind started to work fast. By now she could be in a train, out of Louisiana and out of any chance he could have to stop her from digging his grave. He passed both his hands though his hair, nervously pushing it backwards.

"When did this happen? Did you check the train stations?"

Hell, that was redundant. Knowing her there was nothing stopping her from taking a car and hitting the highroad.

Henry watched with keen interested the desperation taking over Remy. He had severely judged his brother for the current compromising situation of the family. He knew and feared, more than anyone else in the family, that his brother must have crossed a dangerous line and there was more to the story than a drunk proposal to marriage. While the rest of the family discredited the boy's nasty vices, no longer surprised at such a preposterous scenario, he was, more than anything else, disappointed. He had probably given Remy too much credit, believing that he would never become the victim of his own cravings. People always assumed that he had an unspoken envy for the kid; being adopted, proving capable of skills far more useful for the guild than his and probably going to take unrightfully what it was his, the next in line as the head of the thieves. The day that the agreement between the two guilds took place, to unite both parties under a marriage, it was decided that Remy should be the next leader of the Thieves after Jean-Luc . And, truthfully, he never bothered to defend himself in front of the others and their accusations or pity. They were too bothered with ideas to be concerned with more than appearances. But he truly had expectations when it came to Remy's good instincts. When the others believed he was going to succeed he knew Remy better; but when the rest were expecting failure – such as this current situation, in which Remy would end up fucking up his life and with it the name of the family – he had never envisioned him delivering such fatal and foolish attitude. He… had too high expectations. Mercy could be right in saying that it was bound to happen sooner or later, that the pressure of a marriage and a life that he couldn't handle would make Remy do something stupid and infantile. But he was not ready to buy it. And what he was witnessing now was, proving him right. He narrowed his eyes. What sort of mess had Remy gotten into this time?

"Give me the keys of a car!"

Remy threw his arm at Étienne , no longer patient to reason the situation.

The younger man was almost startled by the gesture and his already aching headache turned ten ways worse in an attempt to remember where something so essential was. He looked genuinely confused as he started to feel his pockets. Were the keys even on him to start with?

Henri took another sip from his coffee.

He tried to put in the background his brother's hissed curses as he was transforming more and more into a caged wolf. His attention focused on the echo of the front door closing and he tried to distinguish the sound of light steps approaching them from the corridor. Was Mercy back?

Instead, he frowned. His eyes lingered a second longer on the person frozen at the entrance of the parlor as their gazes met. Then he looked back at Remy, who was too concerned with the ideas eating his mind to notice the other presence in the room. His attention turned back to the other figure and he sincerely didn't know what else to do than to continue his coffee routine as his eyes roamed from the carrot shirt to the coral dress, both overworn, to the pair of shoes hanging by their straps from her gloved hand and to the stocking-ripped legs, mud and dust on her small feet.

The scene taking place in front of his eyes was disarmingly surreal. The woman caught his eyes and an expression of pure surrender reached her features. She didn't lose much time with him, only sighing his way before giving up her sneaking intentions and staring at his brother's back in resignation. She looked almost as if she was pitying him.

Henri let the cup on the glass of the table maybe a little too noisy. But it was enough to break the spell for Remy and for his thief instincts to kick in. He felt it; the stare. Slowly, with his arm still extended after Étienne, he turned just too look over his shoulder at the woman and any logical thought dissolved from his mind.

But he said nothing. Curiously neither acted as dramatically as the situation required it. An awkward silence fell over the parlor.

Étienne was the last one to catch sight of the woman.

Eventually the woman's messy state came into Remy's attention .

She bit the inner wall of her cheek looking at the not so fortunate man in front of her. She might have been the one running out of the swamps and all over New Orleans for the entire night but the man himself seemed to her quite unfortunate. With his rumpled clothes, unbuttoned shirt, unshaved and ravished attitude he looked as if life itself had kicked him hard during those past few hours since they had last laid eyes upon eachother.

She looked away, at a random portrait hanged on one of the walls.

"Nights are unnecessary cold and humid for this time of the year in the bayou."

He arched an eyebrow. His voice had nothing to do with the previous yelling.

"And you've been….?"

"Out for a walk…" she eyes him with no particular interest from the corner of her eyes. "One of the heels broke so I … had to come back."

He swore to himself that was not what he was supposed to do but the only thing that came out of him was a generic nod.

She dared to look at him, more confident now that he didn't seem motivated to jump at her throat... as she was expecting. Eyeing him up and down, she wrinkled her nose.

"Bad night ... I guess?"

He didn't answer.

She waited a second before stretching and taking a deep breath.

"Well I guess I'll… go clean myself."

She made her way to the stairs.

"You should do the same. You reek of cheap perfume."

Remy watched her disappear on the upper level. Only then he looked back at his brother who was eyeing him expectedly. Then he glared at the keys in his cousin's hand.

Without a single word he turned around and went up the stairs.

"I'm going to take a shower."

That was all. Like that he left his brother with a raised eyebrow and his little cousin more confused and disorientated that he had felt since waking up.

* * *

Rogue closed the door of the guest room she was occupying and let the shoes slip out of her hands. This had been one of the longest nights in her life. But she was too exhausted to do anything about it. She would have felt angry, desperate, scared; she wanted to yell, she even felt like crying. But she had wasted all her will and power trying to escape the old mansion situated in the freaking bayou and find a way out of town. Absorbing Etienne's knowledge and leaving him unconscious was good enough only to keep her hidden from the thieves and familiarize her with the city but she wasn't expecting Lansky's men blocking all the ways out of Louisiana. How they tracked her so fast to New Orleans was actually what was scaring her the most. They were on to her and she was pretty sure that by now both Lansky and Luciano were aware of the fools that they have been in this cat and mouse game she has played with the LeBeau thief. She entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. Giving time so that the temperature of the water could adjust she took a moment to watch herself in the mirror. She looked horrible. And she felt the same. What was she going to do? She was caught between two powerful walls closing in on her, and the worst part is that it was all her fault, taking one wrong decision after another.

The woman unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her silk camisole. At least that was still clean even if sweat had found a way to it.

What options did she have now? She didn't like to admit it but she was literally at this Remy guy's mercy. For now he, and the convenience of him being part of such a powerful origination, was her only guarantee for a chance to catch another day alive. That night in Paris when she absorbed his memories she only managed to get basics. Enough to understand that he was not a simple thief and that the guild had some significance in the strings that were pulled in the state of Louisiana. Heck, she only got enough to make her story borderline believable. It had been very strange. Usually images from the person she was absorbing would literally explode in her mind, uncontrolled, dominating, and chaotic. But even after lingering more than necessary (who was she to say no to such a treat of kissable lips) still, it was peculiarly little information. His sense of control had been amazing and at one point she was afraid that hew power of absorption wouldn't take him down quick enough. Maybe it had something to do with him being a mutant. That she found out easily. She didn't need her powers for that. Her hands fell from the hem of her opened shirt. A cold shiver went down her spine at the memory of those heavy demonic eyes staring into her soul. A knot got stuck in her throat and she fought for her breath. She felt dirty; she felt scared and she bit her lip. That stare haunted her for nights. When she had stolen the keys from the maid to find a place to hide in one of the rooms of the hotel she had expected the room to be empty. After she had thrown the door close after her she was completely surrounded by darkness. She was not ready to turn and find the devil itself pinning her down under his gaze. She would be lying to herself if she wasn't admitting that the only reason why she had not yelled was because of how petrified she had been. But she was glad that life hadn't been kind to her; the things that she had seen and done allowed her to overcome shock in an easier way and see things as they were. She didn't believe in fairytales with angels and demons. She didn't believe in a stupid story of someone watching over you. Her mother used to bring her to churches and tell her tales of a God who takes care of his children and punishes those who wrong their brothers and sisters. She was nothing but good to her whilst her drunken father would come home and beat her. Both her mother and her 'nanna'. Each time that happened she would hide under the table and pray for God to do his job and save them from that monster. But he seemed to never listen, and one day it all ended; god never answered and her mother laid dead on the cold floor of the kitchen, her empty gaze fixed on her curled, hidden body. And then her nanna left. No matter how much she begged and cried, she left.; told her that devil was inside that house.; said that she loved her terribly but she still packed and ran out the house. The man that was supposed to be her father never once looked her way. He seemed not to realize that she existed. And each time she would return to that place under the table she could only remember the scared little girl desperately praying for two things. But if God truly existed he was nothing but a twisted son of a gun. Because he never saved her mother and he must have had a very twisted sense of humour. She asked for protection; she prayed to never suffer under the violent touch of monsters like her father. And guess what, wish granted. Only months later from her mother's death her mutation manifested and she became … untouchable.

Her mind went back to the person whose life she was invading. She felt ashamed because, no matter how much she wanted to fool herself she had been scared by him. What were the odds? For him to be a mutant just like her? Blurred images from his childhood invaded her mind. She saw the streets and the nights spent in sewers with rats. She saw the rocks thrown, the violence, hatred, and the torture that humans were capable through his eyes. She felt truly dirty and shameless to gaze into his nightmares like this. She was disappointed with herself for acting like the rest at the sight of his mutation. She, of all the people…

She looked down at the ring on her finger. And a growl of frustration (probably acquired though too much time spent with Logan) escaped her lips. Last night she had gotten a lot more information from his cousin and it only took a momentarily touch to leave him uncurious. And truth being told, what she learnt from him about Remy and The Guild scared the hell out of her. She could now understand a bit why he was so furious to find her here, wearing a ceremonial ring around her finger. _Rogue, you stupid woman, what did you get yourself into? _She needed to stay on his good side. She had no idea of how to do that but if he was going to kick her out she was dead.

"Why did you come back?"

She was startled. The woman jumped at the deep voice coming from behind. Damn her! He was so quiet! She didn't hear him entering her room and she didn't see him in the doorway to the bathroom. The perks of being a thief. _For how long has he been standing there?_

Instantly she remembered where she was and her eyes reddened with both embarrassment and anger. He was in her _bathroom! _She could have been in the shower by now! Instinctively she brought her hands up to her shirt to cover her thin camisole.

"Do yah have no sense of privacy!? Get the hell otta mah bathroom!"

He was not amused. Apparently the shock of finding her returning back to his house with the tail between her legs has washed away and now he was back to dreadful business.

Instead he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You had the chance to run last night. Go directly to Lansky and sell your version of the story. Why are y' back here?"

She tried to hold her anger and glare a little longer but it was pretty useless. So her body relaxed and she sighed once again. Her hands dropped. At this point she could have been completely naked, it wouldn't have mattered to him. And she was wearing a camisole over her bra. She had an idea or two about how often he had access to better views than that.

"It's too late for that. They are everywhere. His men are webbing all exits to the north. Road, train, everything. I even saw some-out-of-place faces in the old town. They didn't look to be simply passing by through town."

The man frowned. He himself realized how serious this was. It only meant that the syndicate was aware of the cheap trick that had happened right under their nose. Probably by now it was a matter of time until a new period of war would start between the sides. It was probably hunting season for their heads. He eyed her and felt like sneering. She was a trapped mouse now. Not that he was in a better position. But misery loves company.

"And why not try to go south? Or have someone clean a path out of the continent?"

"You really think that Ah didn't try that already? I've been putting myself into danger all night trying to give calls from public spaces. Ah need a passport and a new name for that. But the mafia has every single of my moles freaked out. No one is willing to get involved no matter the price."

She was infuriated. His empathy was picking up violent outburst of anger and fear mixed in the most peculiar way. And she wasn't even attempting to control them. She was projecting herself onto him with an easiness that felt almost raunchy. It was long since he had felt such powerful emotions inside of the walls of this house. His family was more attentive when it came to expressing their emotions. They knew he could read them easily. She didn't. That reminded him of the fact that she had seen his eyes. Yet, she has not said a single thing about it. It could be that she's one of those people knowing of the existence of the mutants. And maybe she had forgotten about it since the _duller _probably still had an effect; he had taken a powerful dose before going out and spending his night in the middle of people. Still… how can people simply forget such a terrifying sight? From his experience…they never do.

"What are you looking like that for? Say something!"

Now, he didn't appreciate her tone and she realized she was stepping on thin ice.

"I need to clean my head."

She didn't answer.

"Do us both a favour and stay put this time. "

She frowned.

"What do you intend to do?"

"Right now I am tempted t' throw you out and wish you the best o'luck. And I truly would do that but it would do me no good. You've caused Remy already too much problems appearing at my door wearing that ring. Luckily for yah I can't go against the laws of the guild and I need to find another way to get rid of you."

Her jaw clenched. She had nothing to fight with.

He threw her one more look before pushing himself from the doorway and turning to leave.

"And make sure I don't catch sight of you around the house today."

Those were his last words before she was left alone in the bathroom of her room.

She let the shirt skip off her shoulders and closed the door before returning to the shower.

"Asshole." But that was all that she could come up with.

* * *

Remy poured himself a glass of bourbon and took a seat in the leather armchair in his father's office. To her credit she respected his wish and she had been out of his way for the entire day. After he left her in the bathroom he went to take a shower as well. Hmph, she dared to tell him that he reeked of cheap perfume. What did she care? And what was with women and trivial matters like that. He never paid attention to perfume, who would when the only smell in the end would be of sex and sweat? That's how he managed to calm down. Her idiot observation managed to get his mind out of the sack of problems he was actually going through and clean his head before having to face hell again. He had been capable of pretending worries away all day. The fact that everyone except Mercy and Tante Mattie avoided talking to him helped a lot. But now evening was falling down and the state of easiness was slowly disappearing. The ugly truth was catching up with him. He took a mouthful of alcohol. The syndicate was after him. Double the price she hag said. Somehow he doubted that right now any of the two men were opened for negotiations. And Remy was sure that he wouldn't even be able to make it in one piece to Luciano to try and explain him that he didn't double-cross him. Moreover it was an useless action. He wouldn't have believed him anyway. For men like him the consequences are those that matter. What Remy made him go through was definitely not something he was ready to forget with money. At least… not in the near future.

He wished he could simply lay low for a while. But he was deprived of that option as well. He still couldn't grasp the thought that he was engaged. Sure, he had done no such thing but what mattered was that there was someone wearing the family ring and entitling herself his fiancée. He had not been here to defend himself and, in front of The Guild, she had fit the role. Hell, what was wrong with his luck in private matters? Was not Bella Dona's hysterical attachment to him enough? A crazy swindler trying to fool none other than the Thieves Guild? And did he really have this little credibility in front of his family that she was actually getting away with it? How could they not see through her cheap moves? What the hell could she have said to them to make any story even slightly believable?

He pushed his hand along his temples. He must have seriously pissed off his lucky lady to leave him abandoned in such misfortune.

The door of the office opened and even if he couldn't watch behind he knew who that was. After all he had been waiting for his father. As the man made his way inside Remy let the glass on the desk.

Jean-Luc followed in his son's steps, and before taking his seat across from him he stopped by the bar.

Minutes passed in silence, only the sound of liqueur being poured reaching their ears. The man flicked the lighter opened and inhaled deeply from his cigar.

He threw a scrutinizing look at his son before pushing the box of cigars his way. He did not accept it. Instead, he went back for his glass.

"If you have not made a decision on which you want to update me, I'd like you to leave my office."

"What if I did? Would it matter to you or dis is just a simple formality before you'll force your own decisions on me like y' did with Belle and the Assassins?"

"I am under the impression that you are yet unable to understand the delicate situation in which you've put us."

"I didn't put you in any shit. You did it yourselves."

The man narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"I think you'd like to reconsider your words."

But Remy remained quiet.

When he realized that there was no way he would make his son talk on the matter, he pushed further.

"It was clear from the way in which you reacted yesterday that the current state of being is not something of your comfort. Had y' returned home sooner the situation wouldn't have been so out of hand. But the council decided to grand you the presumption of innocence, believing that … the presence of this woman is more than a simple cruel joke you are playing on us. But apparently your immaturity cost the family's integrity."

Remy let out an involuntary sneer behind his glass. It was enough to push the old man's nerves.

"Are you even aware of the implication of the ring? Why do you think I gave_ you_ d'ring and not to Henri? I am starting to believe I have been deeply wrong in what concerns you. Henri may not be as swift or a natural thief as you are but he knows the meaning of responsibility."

"I never asked for your sense of responsibility! You pushed it on me! Like you do with everything! You're nothing but a shellfish bastard! You make Henri step down from the title of the next in line as head of this family and you make me do things that I clearly don't want tah!"

"Is this what it is about? Is this why you go off and disrespect the rules of this family by bringing home some random woman, endangering the only way in which we can finally obtain peace around Louisiana after years of war? Because I make you do things that your small prick does not want to do?!"

"Maybe it is! What are you going to do about it!?"

"You ungrateful piece of shit! You keep forgetting that I was the one that saved your sorry ass from the gutter and I have the right to send you back there if so I please!"

"And what's stopping you? Why don't you just do it now and be done with it!"

By now Jean-Luc was up, ready to strike his dirty mouth. But the young man was not ready to give up yet. "Peace!" he scorned with ironic humor. "Y'really think that a marriage would stop the Assassins from killing the Thieves off? Have you seen their family? Julien is a rabid dog! How can you trust someone like him? You're selling lies to yourself!"

"Shut your mouth or by God I swear I'll hit you."

"Pff. What's stopping you now? That's how you win all your arguments with me since I was a child."

But the man tried not to pay any attention to him anymore.

"We have still managed to keep your _fiancée _hidden from the Assassins. What am I going to ask you goes against all that The Thieves stand for but drastic measures need to be taken to make up for your careless mistakes."

Remy went silent. His questions didn't need to be put to words. He was not a fool. He knew how his father's version of the story would end.

"You don't need to go out of your ways for _my mistakes_." He only hissed. "We're not assassins."

He placed the empty glass on the desk. "She stays."

The man narrowed his eyes but his voice no longer had the anger of his previous yells.

"Are you even aware of the implication of this decision?"

Remy got up.

"The woman stays, and that's final."

"_The woman!_ Do you even remember her name? How is this anything more than your foolish way of rebelling against me!?"

He turned. "As long as that ring is in her finger, _she _stays!"

With that he pulled the door open and stormed outside.

"Remy! You're dragging the entire family down with your selfish sense of revenge!"

"You did a fine job in covering my shit up so far. I'm sure y'can manage to pull it off a little longer until I'll sort things out. Because now we're doing things my way!"

He made his way through the corridor and into the parlor where Mercy and his Tante Mattie were quietly seated, not looking up. Henri was leaning against the mantelpiece and it was clear that the shouts in the office had reached them. Only his brother dared to search for his eyes and while Remy marched past him, to the stairs his brother stopped him for a moment with a hand over his chest.

"Tante Mattie cooked for tonight's dinner. Since the entire _family _is now here, father wants us all there. _Don't. Mess. This. Up."_ he made sure to put extra pressure on the last words. "If not for father at least show some respect for the rest of us. Especially Tante, 'cause she be missing y' too much, you _fool!"_

But Remy didn't answer. He stepped out of his reach and continued up the stairs. Nevertheless, Henri's firm but neutral voice managed to calm his anger. Henri was, as always, not taking any side when there was a conflict between him and Jean-Luc. And the walls of this house have witnessed so many of those through the years. He was grateful to Henri that he was not making things worse for him and he always ended up feeling bad that Tante and Mercy had to cope with the awkward atmosphere that we was always creating. Tonight's dinner wasn't going to be an exception.

He reached his room but before gripping the knob and letting himself in he thought better of it. Instead he made his way down the corridor until he reached the guest room where the woman was.

His mind went back to his father's words. Not only did he not remember her name… but he didn't even know it. And he was sure as hell that she didn't introduce herself to his family as _The Rogue._

With that thought in mind he pushed the door opened. He was not expecting to see the image that lay in front of his eyes. Not the mess she was in the noon anymore, all cleaned up, she was now perched on the top rail of a chair, her hands pulling at the heavy material of the baldachin of her bed.

"What… are you doing?"

Part of him wished he would scare her enough to make her lose balance and fall. At least that she deserved. Instead, nothing of that happened. Sure, she jumped a bit at his presence but her sense of balance had been more than he was expecting.

"What's with you and barging into people's rooms without knocking? Ah could have been undressed!"

"And what would have been wrong in that? After all _we're engaged,_ 'member?"

"Are yah seriously pulling that card on me?"

"Funny choice of words."

She rolled her eyes and dropped down.

"Well one of us is always walking with a full deck next to his heart and that's not me."

He paused. "How do you know that?"

_Stupid!_

"What do yah want? I thought you wanted me _out of your sight_." _Come on, take the bait._

"What were you doing up there?"

"Some sort of insect got caught in the drapes. It was too warm and I opened the windows but in the evening all sorts of bugs get stuck in this damn thing."

She eyed him as she dragged the chair away.

"So, what do yah want?"

"Tonight my family will gather for dinner. It's usually something formal so you'd want to clean yourself a bit or do whatever is that women do in this sort of situations. Also, probably all eyes will be on us so… be ready fo' anything."

She took his words into consideration but nodded.

He closed the door.

"Look, for the time being we'll go along with your bluff. We need to stay out of sight for a while. When things will calm down a bit I'll try to get into contact with one of the two and strike a deal. Then we'll probably have to find a way to pay whatever sum he'll ask."

"That's it? That's your plan? How do you even plan to make that kind of money?"

"Listen. That's our problem. I am not going to bring The Guild into this. Don't expect to dry a family account to cover up for this. We're on our own. Deal with it."

"Ah rather not grow old with you while trying to pay up a debt."

"Have y'even considered that possibility when you put that ring on your finger?"

"Pff."

"Listen here, this is far from a joke. You have no idea in what kind of disturbing mess you got the both of us."

But now, thanks to Étienne's knowledge on the history of the Guild she was starting to get the picture. And her skin crawled.

"So right now we have to focus on keeping m' family out of our business. Until we'll have the chance to get ourselves clean from the bigger mess we'll have to make sure we don't create suspicions here. And to do that you'll have to listen to everything I tell you to do."

She didn't like this one bit.

" Look at me, _chere_. We both know that you depend on me now so y' better be serious about this."

She swallowed her attitude and looked up. She was glaring but at least she was cooperating.

"Good. I'll let you take care of the rest. I'll come after you when you're done and we'll both have a talk before going down to dinner."

Remy turned and without another word he stepped out of the room.

She let her body fall on the bed. This was not going at all how she had it planned. Right. She has been playing some awkward parts in her life: German duchess, airhostess, French singer, Irish immigrant in need of help, high class, middle class, poor woman. The people she created were almost as many as the people that resided in her head. But she had never played the role of a love-struck _fiancée … _so far.


	7. details over dinner

**details over dinner**

* * *

That evening Rogue took a shower and started to get ready. While she was putting her clothes on she couldn't stop her legs from trembling. She had no idea why her body was reacting like that. She pulled a green sharp-shouldered jumper over her silky dress and fastened a delicate belt across her middle. She thought that a gown would have been more appropriated but she was too scared of all the looks that it would attract. Instead she picked something less provoking. She needed to feel comfortable. She brushed the wrinkles of the A-shaped dress. With only a nuance lighter than the deep green of the jumper, she liked the classy result. Dressing up was one of the small pleasures she was affording herself since she has started to work as a rogue. She loved dressing up and she had soon discovered that she was very good at it. Clothes had become an essential part of her act. With the perfect attitude and attire she learned to open doors that people from her reals status wouldn't even dream of. Appearance. That's how she has chosen to live her life. And she wasn't cheap about it. She had nothing. No fortune no home. And yet she had everything. The Bruno Netti jumper she was wearing and the black pearls she was putting on her ears and around her neck spoke of that.

Her hair was up, after the latest fashion, on one side of the head while her white bangs were covering in delicate waves a side of her forehead, disappearing in the curled sea-shell bun.

She ended by adding a dark-shaded rouge touch to her lips. Finishing her ritual she watched herself in the mirror, satisfied with the result.

She went for the laced gloves she had on the bed. As she started to put them on her thoughts went to the occasional weird looks she was receiving during the meals she was having with Remy's family while he was away. She was in this house for almost a week. Tante Mattie, of all the people in the house, was giving her the hardest time. While, for a reason or another, the rest have accepted her story, the woman didn't seem to like her one bit. She was always eyeing her suspiciously, always treating her with a cold shoulder and also calling her a liar. Mercy, the only person who bothered to exchange more than two words with her, told her that the woman was taking the news very hard just because she was the one who has raised each and every boy in the LeBeau family. And she was fondly attached to the two brothers, raising them as her own. She was more than a cook, a maid or a governess. She was part of the family and it seemed that even Jean-Luc was listening to her at times. And since the woman didn't like her one bit they took her gloves the wrong way. Since she was a woman of colour who had access to everything in the family the same way as the rest of the members, words around the house were that Rogue just didn't want to touch everything that the old lady was touching. Pretty ironic, Rogue would say. Giving that she was a mutant, in this society she would have been on the same side of the fence as the people of colour.

She couldn't risk going around without her gloves. Lately her powers were manifesting worse than ever. And taking the pills would only make it worse. She had to cut off the amount of pills. The more she took the less effect they were having. And not only that… there were also the side-effects… She let out a hot breath… maybe… maybe just this once it wouldn't happen, if she would just take one pill to make sure she can prevent immediate reaction in case her skin was to touch someone else… maybe it would make the woman relax. Plus, if Remy was her favourite, as Mercy had pointed out, it wouldn't hurt to try and get on the woman's good side. She went to her jewelry box and got out her pill case. She opened it and counted. So few left… when had she taken so many of them? Her fingers trembled a little when she took one and pushed it in her mouth. She broke the pill in between her teeth. It was done. It tasted very bad but she couldn't help but dissolve the small pieces on her tongue. It felt good.

There was a knock at the door. Her heart jumped and she panicked. Gauchely she closed the case and fumbled her way to the jewelry box.

Remy entered the room and stopped with his hand on the knob. He instantly felt that something was wrong. He could read her panic even if the room was poorly lit. The vibes coming from her were following the beats of her heart.

She cleared her throat and faced him. But she waited for him to say something.

Instead he took his time. Yes, this woman, standing in front of him, had fooled him more than once. But now, she looked so very different than any of the two other times they've met. She wasn't the French seductress or the British posh lady. For lack of better words she was filling her role perfectly: respectable _fiancée_ of a man of fortune. He was starting to understand a bit of how she had managed to convince his family. What was there not to like about a classy, young, beautiful woman? They would have expected him to go for something like that and apparently this was a game she knew how to play.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded but didn't look at him. She was avoiding him. Had he caught her doing anything fishy?

He stepped inside.

"We need to go over the basics."

"What do you mean 'the basics'?" She was confused.

"I want to know what you told them exactly."

"Well, that we met in Paris for the first time. And then in London."

"Go on."

"We spend our night together in Paris."

"Did we?" he asked involuntary.

"Sorry?"

He frowned. "Nevermind." It was too embarrassing to let her know that he had no recollection of what had happened that night.

But she read him immediately and with all her power not to, she still grinned at his expense. Poor thing, he had no idea still of what had happened. Serves him right.

"Right… then… you proposed to me in London, after we met the second time."

"And that's it?"

"Yes, that's about it, sugah'."

"No, can't be. They would have never believed such a story."

"Well..", she took a step closer to him and arranged his tie. "there are also some…other details to my story. But are you sure you want to hear theme?"

Her taunting voice told him everything that he needed to know. He was better off without her stupid fantasies. He was sure it would only annoy him more and he needed stay calm if he wanted this evening to finish fast.

"Ok, I need to know things about you."

"Like?" she arched an eyebrow as she made her way to the door.

"I don't know… background? Age? Where you come from? What y do for a livin'? What y' like about _moi_ so much that y' wanted to doom us both?"

She rolled her eyes and she was sure that it wasn't going to be for the last time she'll find herself doing so during the evening.

"Make it up. Ah don't care."

"I find it hard to believe that my father didn't ask any of these or that they didn't want to make a check on your story."

"Look, Ah gave them enough information to satisfy curiosity. I'll interfere if there's something that needs to be said."

"This is not how we work. We need facts upon which we can both agree. How 'bout me?"

"What about you?"

"How do you convince them you know me good enough to accept my proposal?"

"Hon, I have that one covered, trust me. Ah've managed so far, didn't Ah?"

"How?"

"Well, _that_ I cannot tell. Professional secret."

The woman winked as she opened the door. Before stepping out she glanced at the gloves she had discarded on the bed. Rogue really hoped it was a wise decision.

"Coming?"

He sighed and followed her. She seemed so full of herself and confident all of the sudden. Nothing like the woman he had cornered hours ago in the bathroom.

He dragged the door close after him.

"You'll have to move in my room soon."

She froze and spun on her heels.

"WHAT?"

It was his time to raise an eyebrow.

"Why do you look at _moi_ like that?" he paused. "We'll be spending some time here, with my family. While we're only engaged they know me too well. It would eventually start to smell fishy if you don't move to my room."

"What do you mean 'they know yah too well'?"

He smirked more at the funny face she was making, but his eyes were not showing any amusement.

"You said you have that one covered up."

"Just because your family knows you can't keep it in your pants doesn't mean that we have to actually share the same bed to make it 'believable'. Where's my saying in this?"

"Seriously? You got engaged with me for my fine sense of chastity?"

She was atloss. She knew that she was losing this argument.

"Won't do."

"Stop being childish. We can't fool around. We're playing with fire here!"

She started to march ahead.

"It's not childish."

"You can't stay forever in the guest room, you realize that."

"Watch me!"

He had to fasten his steps to catch up with her.

"And how exactly will you manage to make a plausible excuse for that?"

He watched her furiously walk down the stairs.

Once down she turned to face him again.

"Do you really have no sense of shame, LeBeau?!"

He stopped. Why on earth was she yelling now?

"What the hell got into you, _fille?_"

"You dare asking me to move into your room after you went away to spend a night with a _cheap whore?!'_

He froze. Was she really yelling that with all her lungs?

She held his gaze and the woman he talked to upstairs was no more. Instead he was watching down at a hysterical jealous woman. Suddenly it all made sense. He would have bet on all his fortune that there were people in the parlor watching in shock her little acting moment. He growled and threw his arms in the air incredulously.

"Oh this is how it's going to be!?"

Her face changed and she took a step back, irritation written all over her posture.

"Are you by any chance lecturing me? Do you expect me to willingly share your bed after humiliating me like that?!"

He swore he was ready to take her head right there, on that spot she was standing.

But she turned as if for the first time she was realizing they were not alone. Her face turned red and she looked away in embarrassment.

Remy made his way down. Of course, his entire family was gathered in the parlor waiting for them. Precious. And on top of that his father had invited the Marceaux, with his cousins. Lapin was there as well, grinning like the fox he was. Remy though he will end up murdering her at this rate. Of course, he was now the target of at least three glares coming from the room.

He pulled the collar of his shirt attempting to calm himself.

"Should we have dinner?"

He did not wait for an answer and crossed the room to his destination.

Mercy got up from the sofa, arranging her vaporous dress.

Étienne watched Remy disappear inside the dining room. Then he looked as his furious fiancée followed.

He grinned. "Well, that just reminded me of someone else I know."

Mercy shot him a glare. "I don't know what you're talking about. If Henri had cheated he would have long been food for the crocodiles in the bayou."

The boy's grin only got bigger.

"That's because we all know that Henri is a big woos."

This time his older brother hit him over the back of his head. "_Tais-toi,_ _cretin_?"

Remy was fuming. She was getting the best of him. She made her way to the table next to him. He was about to sit down but her tall figure was shadowing over him. He looked up. There she was, by her chair waiting for him to get up and pull it for her. At this point he would gladly pull it from under her. She made him fall for her stupid trick and that alone was enough to annoy him.

He moved closed and stared down at her. Not losing her out of his sight, he grabbed the chair.

"Are you happy now?"

"I sincerely don't understand why you are angry. There was one awkward situation that I had to take care of."

"By making me look like the bad guy."

She glared. "Sugar, if this would have been a real engagement you would have been the bad guy."

She took a seat. He gripped the ears of the chair and pushed her forcefully into the table.

She pinned her hands on the surface to avoid getting hit.

"Jerk!" it was loud enough for him to hear it while the rest were occupying their seats across the table.

The commotion was slowly stopping.

"Miss Anna, you look very pretty tonight, dressed after the latest European fashion, I presume."

Remy froze and for an instant he even forgot of his anger. For the split of a second he had no idea who Étienne's mother was talking to. But when the woman next to him was quick to reply he realized that he had been so caught up with his annoyance that he hadn't even asked her name. He was saved by good luck. He couldn't understand how she could play with his mind so easily, leaving him opened to one mistake after another.

"Thank you."

He almost laughed. At least she wasn't acting like a pretentious bitch only to him. His aunt was of course waiting for a return of compliments but she had deliberately left it unanswered. He eyed her. She seemed more interested in the napkin in her lap.

After being shoved in the table, Rogue put her arms on the table. She frowned. Her right hand was shaking. She tried to lay it down and control it but it only got worse. She griped the napkin folded by the side of the plate and started to arrange it on her lap. Damn it to hell. She had only taken one pill. None of this should happen.

Jean-Luc cleared his voice. She played no attention but Remy did.

"I'd say it's been long since the last time this family got together for dinner. Some things are the same, yet some important _changes_ have taken place."

At that Rogue looked up. She wasn't a fool. She knew everyone was eyeing her. But her attention instantly got somewhere else.

"Isn't Tante Mattie joining us tonight?"

Everyone looked around at her unexpected question. Mercy was the only one that offered an answer.

"She said she wants to make sure everything is fine in the kitchen tonight. You have no idea how riled up she gets when it comes to her boys." She meant the last part as a joke but Rogue had a feeling that she was more at fault. How very ironic, indeed. People were accusing her of being unfair when the woman herself wouldn't want to sit at the same table as her. So maybe she had seen through her lies, but Rogue had done nothing wrong to her.

Remy took over the conversation.

"I guess there's no need in introducing my fiancée, _Anna._ By now everyone must know her. After spending almost a week with her I might fear that, given the circumstances, you might know more about her than Remy does."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her name…That was one thing she hadn't told him. Rogue knew it was a dangerous thing to leave him clueless to the story she had created to get here but she couldn't deny that she was a little disappointed that she didn't have the chance to enjoy his incertitude. This guy was luckier than he deserved to.

"I know…things might have taken everyone by surprise, and I might have been unfair with all of you but I assure you that this is one decision from which I am not going to step down. Some of you might accept this a bit harder but give her time and I am sure you'll get used to her presence here."

_Smart move, swamp rat. Put it all on me._

It was followed by a moment of silence. Belize Marceaux was the one to break the ice.

"Well, things will surely be interesting around the swamps now. At least we can rest assured of one thing: our Remy has the finest tastes when it comes to women."

The man raised his glass up and showed a wide grin.

Rogue said nothing. But she really felt like punching something. Were all the men from this family overconfident of their sexuality?

Mercy smiled a bit. This was going to be one long evening.

As people were occupying themselves with food Rogue was having a hard time not to choke. The silence was too heavy. It was like a ticking bomb under pressure. And then, the first question appeared.

The only other female figure at the table besides Rogue and Mercy spoke again. She was an old woman but her angular face and slim body were in good shape. Rogue only presumed that all the women in this family were living in enough luxury to keep both them and their husbands happy.

Thinking of it, she must look the same in their eyes: she was the soon to be 'trophy wife'. With a beautiful face, what else would she need to guarantee all the benefits of being married into the Guild? She had figured the way things were a long time ago. Plus, she had seen enough from Remy's head to know what kind of women he preferred.

"So darling; we never actually had the chance to talk. I was curious, what is your family like?"

Remy frowned. His father was not stupid and this dinner was not accidental. He knew his sister would have no shame in prying into Rogue's life and test the both of them. As much as he liked his aunt, Olivia was a very disarming woman. There was no secret she would leave unfolded. She was not a kind woman, and she was not even trying to hide it.

Rogue looked up and held her gaze for a moment. Remy eyed her from the corner of his eyes. He tensed. She'd better think fast or their masquerade was soon to come to an end.

She looked back into her plate. Her hand went after the glass. The woman took her time sipping from her water before answering to no one in particular.

"Dead."

Remy thought he was going to choke on his food. Everyone stooped from whatever they were doing.

After the wave of shock started to wash away her dry voice softened.

"My father was the owner of a big ranch in Caldecott, Mississippi . He made a fortune during the war, selling the caws to the British army. My mother died when I was little. We didn't get along well so I don't remember much of her."

She took a small bite before continuing her story.

"I spent a lot of time with my father. He loved me tremendously."

She followed the knife splitting her food in two. "But he died in a terrible accident. Under the cows' hoofs."

At this point Remy forgot about his food. The woman next to him was so serious. So far he had known 3 different versions of her. He wondered if there was any truth in what she was saying now or if she was selling everyone big fat lies. If it was the latter, she was damn good at it. After all, her reputation preceded her. He thought of what would his father think if he was to know that he had at his table one of the most wanted women by the mafia. Well, the irony was sweet.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

If she was, she wasn't actually showing it. But it was clear that the woman was clearly sent off tracks by the answer she had received. Remy went for his wine. _Cunning fox._

"And ...what about you?"

"I spent most of my years studying abroad. Europe."

Now that was bullshit.

"After all, that's where I met Remy."

She smiled, looking him from the corner of her eyes.

He didn't like it one bit.

"And… were exactly… was that?"

Olivia pretended not to remember. Or she truly didn't know. Probably the two women hadn't had the chance to talk before. By Rogue's look she didn't seem to act any familiar towards his aunt.

"Paris."

The older woman cheered. "So you know French."

"By the book."

"Do you know any other language?" Étienne asked out of curiosity even if he was more focused on his food.

She paused.

"Spanish… German…"

Remy bit from his fork.

"Figures."

She shot him a short glare. But he smiled. "Also, she can pull of an amazing British accent." The woman didn't lose him out of sight.

"I also know a bit of Italian."

"Oh." His aunt was impressed.

He used his tongue to get out some food stuck in his teeth. She loved bragging.

"Yeah, she also knows Japanese and Russian."

Her eyes grew wide. Ah, she was starting to get angry with him again. He faked a sweet smile at her. "At least that's what she told me when we first met."

"Really, you know Russian?" Étienne was now interested. She was in trouble and Remy knew it. The woman looked after her glass of water. It was empty.

"He's exaggerating. Just a bit. " She took her glass up and pointed towards the ewer. "Я хотел бы больше воды, пожалуйста?"

Étienne looked at her as if she was an alien.

And for the first time, Jean-Luc slipped a grin.

"конечно."

The woman was taken aback, definitely not expecting an answer. And more so, from the man who disagreed the most with her presence there. She watched as he grabbed the ewer and poured more water in her extended glass.

She couldn't help but smile in the end. Rogue took the glass back and searched for his eyes.

"спасибо."

The man nodded and glanced at his son. He had to admit that for once it felt good to see someone cutting through Remy's ego. He knew Remy had tried to corner her. But apparently he did not expect her to hit back.

"Remy, honey, you didn't tell me that your _papa _knows Russian!"

She returned sweetly at him.

"Heh; not only is she drop dead gorgeous, but also well educated. How did such a rare jewel ended up with a rascal like our Remy?"

Well… she could face all kind of questions… but what was she supposed to answer to that? Rogue glanced at the man in question before answering his uncle's question.

"It took some time... he actually followed me to London. I guess I appreciated his persistence." She smiled as his face dropped.

"Paris, London. Oh you must have quite a story!"

Remy glared at her sister-in-law. He couldn't believe she was getting involved in this game.

"Oh, she ended it quite fast after our first night in Paris… She's playing the saint now but she had no problem in takin' advantage of dis _homme _ and disappear before morning."

The woman froze. He had not just implied something about their sexual life in front of his family.

"I had to be the mature one and look for her after. It's hard to deal with emancipated women."

She clenched her jaw. If that was how he was going to play….

Rogue pushed her lips together and continued her dinner.

"'Sugah, Ah was not the one who ended it too quickly that night." She scratched the fork out through her teeth, to make her point.

"Now, that's a lie!"

She lowered her hand and arched an elegant eyebrow at him. She had to keep her smile in check. She was not expecting him to react so sudden at the accusation.

"Really? Tell me, now, is there something you remember of that night after the first 10 minutes…" she stopped to consider "… give or take?"

Yes, she was cheating but the result was rewording. His silence was golden.

Rogue returned victorious to her food. "Exactly."

"This is better than tv." Henri threw his wife a look of disapproval.

"I bet you didn't tell them yet about how we met again in London."

Her victory was short. What was he aiming at?

"You see, " and at that he looked at the people around the table "there is where the funny story actually starts."

"S' it's true. Remy went after _de femme _ in London. But that is because she practically gave me an open invitation. Now, Remy might be wrong, but the first thing you did in London was to take me to a hotel room. I presume those must have been 10 great minutes fo' y if the moment you saw me you _demanded _me to 'get inside and close the door'."

She was clearly confused and she was not hiding it.

"Chere gave me quite a run in London. That's why Remy ended up liking her so much."

He was not going to twist the events from London after his own pleasure.

"Of course Ah did! You followed me around like a stalker!"

"You say that but you made Remy do things that he would have never done during the daylight."

"Do yah really have no shame?"

At that he frowned, maybe too theatrical for her to believe it.

"I was talking about the walk along the bang of Thames and the yacht trip. Remy never felt the need to be romantic until he met you. I believe _de _one with the dirty mind here is you_, ma belle_."

She glared at him, daring him to say one more thing.

"And well, guess love makes us do stupid things. One night, lovely restaurant, she gazed at Remy with those amazing emeralds. What thief can resist not to steal _dem_?" He glanced at his father, stressing his last line. As to confirm his words he looked at her. If he was going to make them give him a rest he might as well play along, and give them a piece of truth. He had to give it to her: she was one pretty little thing. How laughable; how well she fit at that table. He wasn't a man who expected to see himself with a ring around the finger any time soon… as in… this life time. But here he was, and considering all his options and possible outcomes, it didn't look that bad. "Remy can't remember when the ring slipped on her finger. But now she's here tellin' me that I took something from her and demandin' to give it back."

The woman held her breath. What was he doing? She felt her blood freeze. The thought that he would actually expose her there and then made her lose her composure for a split of a second.

"She put both of us in quite the predicament by coming here."

"Cajun-!"

"**Tuh-tuh!"** he lifted his finger up. "You tol' your story while I was away. Now it's time to let _dis homme _to do the talk."

"She shouldn't be here. Remy needed to get here first and avoid the shock. Test the waters. See, _chere,_ _dat_ night when y' said _yes" _he paused and smirked "repeatedly….. Remy did warn you his is no regular family. You didn't listen and you learnt it the hard way; should have waited for Remy to return for you as promised. Instead you got here and gave everyone a hard time believing us."

She blinked and he found it hilarious how readable her emotions were. Instantly, her entire body relaxed. His previous sexual comment seemed to have passed unnoticed to the woman. He wondered how far he could push.

"The night I returned home and found you here I was … infuriated. But y' know what she said t'me when we talked that night? That she was going to die without me."

Her eyes grew in horror. Oh how he liked to play with her words. "That she was going t' lose her head if I don't give back what I took from her in London. Realized soon enough she was talking about her heart."

He winked at her and went for his wine. Smirking, he looked at his uncle. "_Chere_ likes to say crazy things like that. And when she looks at you with those eyes, I find it very hard to say no." He took a sip and triumphantly, he turned to Rogue "She's a player like that."

If looks could hurt Remy was sure he should have been in extreme pain by now. His grin only got wider. He had no idea where it came from but in a moment he leaned over and passed a hand over her shoulders. Maybe it was the wine or the victory but he felt a bit relieved for a second. He got closer, ready to lay a kiss on her forehead but she jumped as burnt and turned her head. He frowned. Maybe he was invading her space but he wished she would play along just for the charade. Instead he felt her heart beating faster and he felt the heat that her body emanating.

She cursed. Too fast. Too unexpected. What the hell had gotten into the Cajun's head all of a sudden? Damn, if only she had seen it coming. She had taken the pill! She could have controlled it. Instead she did what her instincts told her to. She wondered how this looked to the people in the room. It was uncomfortable. Right now she wanted her gloves. They were of no help for her but she felt _naked!_ Just the sight of them would have calmed her down. She felt like a cornered rabbit.

Slowly he pulled away. Maybe she didn't feel comfortable around him but her reaction felt too weird. He was sure that had he not pressed her on the chair the woman might as well have jumped on her feet.

But then he caught sight of Tante entering the dining room, a bowl of amazingly well smelling gumbo in her arms. He jumped from the chair.

"Tante! You are the most wonderful woman in Remy's life!"

He made his way to the approaching woman.

"U'hu! I bet it doesn't have anything t' dah with mah creole gumbo." The woman said with indifference.

"_Mais, _it has a lot t' do with it!"

He went to her and grasped the woman in a tight embrace.

"Arrête-toi! Y're going to make me drop dis! It's already burning as it is!" Schemingly he eyed the kitchen towel the woman was using on the bowl. He went to lift the lid but the woman pulled the recipient away from his hands.

"Will y' ever grow up, boy?"

"Not when you spoiled him so very hard during the years, Mattie."

His father didn't look up at the two when he spoke.

Rogue instead, glanced at them; and then at the people around the table. Mercy was grinning at her brother-in-low antics. His brother seemed merely unfazed while his cousins were enjoying a good exchange or sarcastic smiles. To whomever from outside it would look like a heavy atmosphere but, through all the hush words and attitudes it felt almost warming. Rogue didn't know if it was just her reading into it or if both the staying (arid for her so far, until this first dinner when Remy was back home) and Remy's reminiscence of his presence in her head, but she felt like an intruder to this family reunion. She had no idea if this is how a family should be like, but they were watching out for each other and that was more than she ever had from a family. Her head started to spin. She looked back at her hand and she crushed it in a fist in her lap. The dizziness only got worse. She needed her gloves. She wanted to run upstairs and lock herself in the room. Suddenly, all the voices amplified and echoed in her head, starting to deafen her. She was losing control. A chair was dragged on the floor and the sound hurt her ears. She was startled and brought her hand up to cover her ear. Thankfully, that horrible noise broke the echo and everything went back to normal. Yet, the dizziness stayed.

"_Chere?"_

Sluggishly she looked to her left. He was back in his chair.

"'S everythin' ok?"

At first it felt as if he was talking in a language she couldn't understand. But instead of answering she went for the water.

She took a sip and considered his questioning looks. What could have he said?

"'m fine, Cajun."

Was that an acceptable answer?

"Remy, why you hide your eyes?"

That indignant voice she heard well. Rogue looked up, at the woman standing by Jean-Luc's side.

It took her a while to understand what the black woman meant but reason caught up with Rogue. His _eyes. _How could have she forgotten about it. She looked back at the man as if to check her trail of thoughts. The woman was right. His eyes were... normal. The man was staring right at the standing woman, clearly uncomfortable now that the subject has been brought up.

Rogue asked herself how much of an idiot she could be not to realize that not once had she seen those red orbs since he was back. She wondered why? His family had to know that he's a mutant. She had learnt that much. She looked at Jean-Luc. It must have been one of the reasons why he adopted Remy. His mutation... So she wondered, why would he be indeed hiding it now, in the middle of his family and inside the secure walls of his house?

Yet, he chose not to answer. He grabbed his fork and took one more bite from the almost empty plate. And then she felt it. The accusing glare she was receiving. All that she had to do was to look up at the woman, pinning her with a disdainful expression. She froze. It was her! No one knew she was a mutant. So they were all assuming that the sight of his eyes would… make her freak out. She looked back at him. He was probably thinking the same.

"Y' using dose pills for nothin', boy!" She went on as she offered to pour some gumbo in their plates.

Jean-Luc took the chance to jump into the conversation, now that it was in his advantage.

"Are you aware of my son's condition?"

At first it took some good seconds for Rogue to realize that the question was directed at her.

"Condition?"

"She's well aware of it, _pere_; give it a rest."

"I wasn't asking you."

A sudden silence took over the room.

"If she is going to be part of d'family she should know what's to be expected from her. Or are you plannin' on hiding your mutation for d' rest of d'time spent with her just not to scare her away."

"I ain't plannin' on anythin'. I took de pills last night after I went out and did it out o'reflex. To ease up the evening."

Rogue looked from one man to the other. She felt like saying something, but what? Her headache was getting stronger and the more they were talking, the more it felt as if the voices were waking up in her head.

"We're your family. This is the one place where there's no shame in what you are. Are you sure the _femme _knows what you are?"

She frowned. "_what you are?"_ how many times had she heard that one line? So many voices asking her at once. She bit her lip for control. She was here! Why wouldn't anyone ask her? Why is it always the _what _and not the _who?_ _Who were they?!_

"She knows as much as she needs t' know."

"And isn't she afraid of it? Didn't it come with a shock fo' her?" he pushed further hoping to break through whatever lies they were building right there, in front of them.

"Ah'm still here, ain't Ah!?"

She stated. For the lack of a better intonation she stated. She needed silence. She meant it both as an answer to Jean-Luc's insinuations and also to remind them than they were talking about her as if she wasn't present.

"Ah didn't ask him to take any pill so if you need to shove guilt on someone don't take it out on me, please." Her heart was racing. She needed to keep talking. She needed to push the headache away and the voices in the back of her mind. She needed to hear herself over them so that she wouldn't lose herself among them.

"So, _Anna, _you know about mutants."

She felt her throat dry.

"I have a fair amount of knowledge on the matter." She stopped and eyed him from under her eyelashes. "Enough to keep me alive." She was careful in choosing her words.

The man narrowed his eyes.

Remy wanted to interfere but she had brought this on herself. Tante had opened a discussion that he had no interest in nourishing. Why had he taken the pill? He really had no idea. He knew she had seen his eyes repeatedly. He was convinced that she had also assisted to some of his other tricks. Yet she had never opened the discussion. Couldn't blame her really. They had no time to do so. Regular humans were often too afraid and too violent when it came to mutants. For them mutation was a disease.

"You scared of mutants, _chere_?" his father pushed further.

"Aren't we all scared in a way or another when something is different from what we know?"

"Have y' seen my boy's eyes? Don't you find them scary?"

She clenched her jaw. Her breath intensified.

"We don't choose the colour of our eyes." She needed a drink. But she couldn't trust her hands. She felt them shaking under the table. "… nor the colour of our skin… or hair."

She felt the woman's eyes on her.

"Interesting. So you think that mutations and the colour of our skin are one and the same."

She glared at him. Deliberately, without hesitation. Something bad was happening with her. The dizziness was making her unstable and memories that she didn't remember as being hers kept flashing through her mind. She thought of Logan, how he would have long stood up from the table and sent them all to hell. A sudden urge to growl took over her and with a sort of disrespect she didn't know herself capable of she answered back.

"And how are they different? You don't get to choose if you're born white or black; blue eyed or black-eyed and it's not your choice to be born a mutant!"

Remy watched her fiddle with the napkin in her lap.

"Well, it's all good that you don't see anything bad in being a mutant. It must have come as a relief to Remy to know that you were ok with his condition when he _proposed _to you." There was a trace of malicious amusement in his words. "But, you've misunderstood me. Completely. You see… being of colour is quite an unfortunate situation. We all agree here and it's no secret. But being a mutant is far from being a curse. With all the benefits, it can't be anything but a blessing."

His father was toying with her. First accusing her and waiting for her to overreact; defending herself in front of a false accusation would only prove his father that they were trying too hard to hide something. He knew this was going to end bad. He should have stepped in when she didn't want to listen to him. His father was capable of the lowest tricks to bring someone to their knees.

She was silent. Probably the woman was realizing her mistakes by now. She had been played right into his trap. He saw her eyes water and he thought she was going to break her mask right there.

She felt like screaming in pain. It was too crowded. _Blessing _he said? She wanted to let him have a piece of her _blessing_. But she couldn't find herself in her head anymore. Instead, he had a clear image of the man himself.

"Was that what you told your son when you saw his eyes for the first time?" She kept her poignant gaze "That he was blessed?" They both knew the ugly truth. And with Remy, that made them three.

The man had no answer to that. She had won, but she sure didn't feel like it.

Remy was taken by surprise by the woman. There was no doubt that his father was experiencing something similar. At that point a thought crossed his mind. He had only believed that the woman acted cornered, that she needed to play the 'good person' card to look innocent and find herself an excuse of why she was willing to hypothetically share her life with a mutant. But he never considered that her answers could be honest; perfectly flat, coming from her beliefs.

She needed to breathe. She couldn't stand another second. The room was spinning so fast with her and she was starting to lose contact with what was happening around her. She went for the water in front of her. As she snatched the glass the strong arm of the black woman, standing behind her, went for her plate. All her senses heightened up and Rogue panicked. Her head was a mess, if she risked skin contact with another person she had no idea of the outcome. She wanted to yell not to touch her but a terrifying pain cut through her head and left her mute. In a moment she lost control over her body and because of the pain she jumped from the chair, bringing the glass down on her dress. The sound of the chair being pushed echoed powerfully in her mind making her hiss in silent pain.

The clatter of the glass rolling on the ground was the last thing Remy heard before a powerful hit of energy hit him. He was left without breath as if a concrete block had just hit him in the chest. Fear, anger, confusion, dread, agony, frustration… too much at once, too many feelings, as if a hundred of people's feelings were projected onto him at the same time. And all these people were right there, in the same room with him. His eyes watered and he gripped the front of his shirt. But as soon as hit came it all went away. Vanished. He let out a shiver. What the hell had just happened?

Rogue looked around her and at the mess she had made. Water was dripping from her dress.

She looked at the woman, petrified next to her. He realized how all this might have looked for the rest.

"Ah'm so, so sorry!"

She took the glass from the floor.

"Give it to me, child."

But she refused to watch the woman in the eyes.

"No, no. I got this. Ah'll take it to the kitchen and clean myself up." She caught sight of the warm gumbo in the bowl she was holding. She tried to fight her headache and a heavy sensation of nausea took over her. She had to bring her hand to her mouth.

"Ah'm…. ah'm not feelin' well. Please excuse me."

Like that she stormed towards the kitchen. Her feet were burning. She needed out of there, she needed away from their looks and from the voices in her head. _Stop it, stop it, stop it!_ She made it to the sink. She felt like throwing up but couldn't. It only made her sicker. Her hands were trembling. _Keep quiet!_ Please!" her entire body was shivering. _Pull yourself together, Rogue! You can do it. You've been here before. Damn! _She crushed hey eyes shut _Why now! Not now! Come on! Push them back!_

She gripped the glass ihard. Her hands shook with pressure. The pain was excruciating. _Get QUIET!_

And they did. The voices went into pinging silence and the pain vanished. Her entire body relaxed.

The woman opened her eyes slowly and contemplated the thin lines of red in her hands.

"Rogue?"

She blinked. Was someone calling for her? It was so distant. She heard steps echoing to her.

"Rogue? What the hell happened to you?"

She looked up and she swore she never wanted to look away from those hallow dark eyes. She felt attracted to the bloody colour of his irises as a moth is attracted to light: without a reason, but pushing itself closer and closer, unperturbed by the pain of its actions.

But he blinked and looked down , to her hands. She followed his gaze. She unclenched her hands from around the shards.

"I broke it…

…sorry."

She parted her hands and let the pieces fall into the sink. She looked at her right hand.

"Are you ok?"

He asked that but whatever her answer was going to be he didn't need it.

She was regaining control over her conscience… and her body.

Rogue wanted to pull a piece of glass from her damaged hand. She went for the water.

"No! If there is anything still there it might push it inside."

He wanted to take her hand but stopped. He remembered her reaction when he had first tried to get close on her. The man looked at her, waiting for a reaction. But she stood there, hand extended in front of her. So he took it. He turned it around with one of his to have a better look and he searched for any remaining shards on her palm.

She glanced at his side, and the profile of his face. The pill still had an effect on her. Under his touch her skin was burning. It was something bearable but it always did that. She considered how misfortunate she was. When she had started to take the pills she had been the happiest person in the world. Back then she thought that she had the answer to her mutation; that the pills would take her loneliness away. But the more she used the more her skin begun to burn. While the pills were effective each touch would feel like needles on her skin. It was only getting worse with the time. Years ago, a touch through the effect of the pills meant joy. But now, touching someone meant more pain than joy. Right now it was bearable. The contact was minimum and she could channel the effect.

"So you want to tell me what happened back there?"

She let her weight on one hip.

"I have this headache. I guess it got worse in the evening."

"I meant about the confrontation you had with my father. Take down a notch, you almost blew our cover. That's Jean-Luc. Y' can't fool him easily. He'll do whatever to get under your skin."

"Sorry…"

He grabbed a towel.

"And you'd better stop acting so uptight around Tante Mattie."

At that she frowned.

"I act uptight? Have you seen the glares she's throwing me?"

After putting it under the flow of cold water he pressed it on her hand to stop the blood.

"She doesn't like me one bit."

He arched an eyebrow and looked at her.

"Can you blame her? She probably saw through your lies the moment you stepped the threshold of this house. She does that. She's good at people and smells rotten intentions from the distance."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh damn, now Ah got it. Next time Ah'll be thinking of hitting you in the head with a shovel and hid your body six feet underground Ah'll try to think it less loud."

"I'm glad your cheap sense of humour is back."

She held his gaze.

"What made yah think that was a joke?" She pulled her hand and checked her small wounds. "Ah stopped counting the times Ah wanted you dead for not getting back in the bayou sooner. Yah family gave me hell."

He threw the towel on the counter.

"I would have been worried if that hadn't been the case. And they will continue to do so. Let's get back there before things get suspicious."

He had a lot of questions for her but now was not the time.

He left her behind. She sighed and looked once more at her hand. She was sure she was in a lot of trouble once there were no more eyes on them. He made that as clear as possible.

She straightened and pulled herself together before going back into the lion's den.

When she entered the dining room, people were quietly enjoying their dinner.

She excused herself once more and took her seat. It was apparent that they have been talking in her absence.

Mercy looked at her.

"Are you ok?"

The woman threw her an automatic smile.

"I am now, yes. Sorry about earlier. A lot of things… happened lately and I was not feeling well all evening."

Jean-Luc let the spoon down. But his sister beat him to it.

"Are you pregnant?"

Rogue felt a wave of horror wash over her and she looked at the faces across the table. She hesitated to answer.

"That would make sense with you hurrying here and all."

Her eyes stopped on the man in front of her.

"No, no! nothing like that at all, I assure you."

"Can you?"

Rogue looked for the first time for help at the man that was supposed to be her significant other.

But he was recovering from a choking fit. What a help he was.

She was turning red.

"Father, that's enough!"

Her salvation came from the last person she was expecting; Remy's older brother borne a look of annoyance.

"You are making everyone feeling uncomfortable."

"Those are not my intention. But a child would change a lot our situation. At this rate I'll start belivin' that Remy is planning to push me away from the place at the top of the Guild before my time actually comes."

The man rolled his eyes.

"I highly doubt it."

"Very well. He's your brother. You know better than anyone how his wimps affect you … and your family." He eyed Mercy, who in return, pretended not to hear him. "So you deal with his mistakes if so you please."

Suddenly, Olivia clapped so that the attention would fall on her.

"I say we get up from this table and enjoy some dessert in the parlor. I don't know about the other ladies but I sure need a change of background. All this Guild talk is simply destroying the mood for the evening."

The men said nothing but proceeded to get up.

"Ah'll bring something sweet in the parlor, Jean-Luc." Mattie said as she made her way to the kitchen.

"You're a darling, as always."

Rogue watched as people were getting up.

Mercy went on and started to take the plates from the table.

"I'll be takin' these to the kitchen."

"Chere, y' didn't even touch your gumbo." Remy leaned over.

Rogue looked down to her plate. She really didn't feel like eating anything anymore. "Yeah, I'll skip."

Then he proceeded and fished a piece of chicken.

She rolled her eyes.

"Why not."

Rogue got up as well.

"Ah'll go and help Mercy with the dishes."

She grabbed as many plates as she could and followed the woman in the kitchen.

As she passed, Tante was making her way out with some homemade sweets.

"Let dem in the sink."

She let the woman pass and then she went through the door.

She approached Mercy.

Before putting the plates down she glanced at the woman. She was strangely quiet. Usually the woman would at least let out a snobbish remark at nothing in particular.

"Dinner ended up quckly…"

"Would you have liked to assist to another fight between those stubborn heads? I thought the situation was already awkward as it was."

Rogue said nothing.

"You broke the glass?" She was looking down, in the sink.

"Yeah, sorry. It was an accident."

"Eh." She looked up at Rogue. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, nothing serious."

The door of the kitchen opened again and in stepped Emil, with dished piled in his arms.

" 'Ere you go, ladies! Though y' needed a hand."

Mercy went to help him by taking some of the weight. Rogue watched them, not really knowing what to do.

With his arms free, the man winked her way and nodded before leaving. Since her arrival, they've kept her as secret as they could in the Guild. Only few people knew of her as Remy's fiancée and most of them were at the table that evening. It was no surprise that Remy's family don't like her much. She was actually surprised that she had managed to survive this long. When the thought of pretending to be his fiancée crossed her mind she guessed it would only take a day or two until he would give her the stone. She was actually planning on making a scene in front of his family, take what she came for, call him a heartless jerk and throw him the ring, making a big exit. Instead, her plan proved to be terribly flawed from start. He was not in Louisiana. So she was trapped pretending and building lies after lies to keep the façade. She was constantly receiving suspicious looks and even now, after Remy has confirmed her story she knew that things wouldn't change. Yet, Emil had shown the most acceptance and kindness to her. She knew he was Remy's best friend and part of the reason why he was smiling all the time at her was because of that friendship (and the fact that he took each chance he had to laugh at Remy's misfortune because…apparently that's what friends do). But whatever his reasons were she was grateful for his attempts to make her feel less uncomfortable. He was Remy's cousin but unlike Theoren and Étienne Marceaux, who were still under the word of their parents, he had less power in the guild. He was usually around the house when Remy was there. Otherwise, if it wasn't because of a job he would mind his business somewhere else. Étienne wasn't half bad to talk to either. He was more easy going, and frankly, easier to manipulate. She didn't remember exchanging a single word with his older brother. She knew for a fact that since she had made her appearance at the mansion he had been in charge to keep an eye on her until Remy would return and confirm her story.

Then, there was Mercy. She was thankful for her presence. The only woman in the family, close of age to her and more or less on the same level. Of course, the woman rubbed her in the wrong way most of the time with her arrogance and spunky attitude but she would have bet that the feelings were mutual. Plus Rogue felt a bit envious of her; she seemed perfect in every aspect. Beautiful, with her deep blond hair and blue eyes. She had high cheekbones and a perfect nose. And on top of that she was frustratingly thin and tall. And all in all, the woman looked as if she was born elegant. Every gesture and breath she took were radiating elegance. Sure, Rogue had no problem in pulling that image as well but… she would bet on her hand that the woman in front of her would make even Logan's dirty place smell of lilies only with her presence. Whilst for herself, well… she knew how to make herself comfortable between two garbage bins if she had to and she wouldn't know how to complain…. and she guessed that knowing how to open bottles with her teeth and trying to fool an old growling Canadian at poker were not giving her an advantage in front of this woman.

Yet something was clearly bothering the woman at that moment and even if it wasn't any of Rogue's concern, it was making the mood in the kitchen at least awkward.

"I'm pregnant."


	8. the baby was a surprise

**a.n**.:I was not going to update this story anytime soon, I have to admit. I barely have time to do anything besides work lately so I could't imagine that I would end up writing a new chapter. But then I checked my mail one of these days. and I found there a new review to the story. That small thing motivated me on spot and here it ts! Thank you so much for still checking this story even if I upload a chapter once in a blue moon. You are amazing! It gives me a reason to put the thoughts I have in my head down on paper. I hope this chapter will be worth the waiting. Cheers!

* * *

**the baby was a surprise...**

* * *

"I'm pregnant."

Rogue froze. Thinking of it, she had no idea why, but she started to panic. Did she hear that wrong?

Just to make sure she raised her head and looked at the woman. She was staring down at the discarded pile of dishes. Rogue felt her throat dry and looked for some sort of salvation towards the door. But it didn't flinch. Well… this was awkward.

She cleared her voice.

"Um… congratulations?..."

But when the woman startled and she turned to her with a murderous expression she considered stepping backwards. Sadly, she was blocked by the counter.

"Congratulations?!" she almost exploded, but in order not to yell she almost hissed. "I haven't told anyone, not even to my husband, and here I am spilling it out randomly to a stranger…who shouldn't even be here"! Who only made it worse for me and Henri! It was hard enough to bring the news as it was. How am I supposed to tell them now when Remy casually shows up with a future?! Bringing an heir to the family will make me look as if Henri is desperate after that horrible title as head of the guild. Our good marriage was enough to raise suspicions that we wanted to take Remy down from his glorious fate!" her voice was shaking with rage. "But now that Remy has a fiancé! And that thing at the table! How expectedly they looked at your belly when the possibility crossed their minds… How am I supposed to tell Henri without making it sound like a greedy competition?!'

The woman in front of her was left speechless. She tried to open her mouth but nothing that she could say would make anything better. So much information and realization hit her at once that she was left empty of any sort of comfort she could come up with or any will to continue to play her part. Instead… she found herself considering her own misery at the irony of the situation. She looked down at her injured hand. Then she brought her hand up, to her hair, tapping it to make sure it was still perfectly arranged. She took some dishes and put them in the sink.

"If it's the competition you're worried about, you shouldn't bother with me." She paused. "Ah can't have children." And that was not a lie.

Merci was taken aback by the answer. The woman's low-toned confession made her forget of all her anger. She continued to look at her.

"Does… does Remy know?"

"No."

She swallowed.

"….I'm sorry…"

She waited another second before continuing. "You should tell him, though…"

At that Rogue felt like laughing. She wasn't planning on staying in this house long enough for that to matter. She looked back at the woman and searched for her eyes, curious for the first time to know more.

"Do you want that baby?"

Merci let her high eyebrows fall and her lips almost trembled.

"Of course I do. But this is such a bad time." She lifted her hand and brought it to cover her eyes and put pressure on her temples. "I don't know what Henri will think of it. If only the circumstances were different. Now everyone is with eyes on us. They gave us a hard time even when he announced that we were going to get married before Remy. It took them years to go easy on us. And now… I don't want to imagine what they will think when he'll have to tell them that I am expecting a baby; coincidently after Remy showed up out of nowhere with a fiancée."

"Well… technically I showed up on my own." She felt like joking but soon realized it was uncalled for. She sighed and took a step closer to the woman. "Ah am so sorry….Ah…. Ah had no intention to cause you so many problems." Awkwardly she lifted her hand, not knowing if she should place it on the woman's shoulder… or something. No matter how much she wanted to comfort her, finally her hand dropped.

"If there's something I could do to help…"

Merci let out a long breath that she was holding and looked at the auburn haired woman.

'Well… getting married with Remy tomorrow and popping a toddler so that his title remains assured would help a lot."

Rogue's eyes widened in horror at the thought. "Unless you can do that, I don't think there's much you can do."

"Ah'm sorry?"

Merci stared at her and against her predicament she ended up huffed a relaxed laugher.

"You look as if I asked you to cut your hand, _petite."_

Well the idea of being brought to the altar by the thief and make babies with him the next morning felt close enough to having her hand cut.

She only smiled and pretended her shock away. Then Merci remembered.

"Oh sorry…I didn't mean it… you've told me earlier."

"It's ok." She looked past the woman's shoulder. "We should probably join the rest."

"Sure." The woman wiped the corner of her eye of mascara.

Rogue moved to the door.

"I'm sorry I had this outburst in front of you." The blonde stopped her.

With her hand on the door Rogue stopped and turned around.

"Don't worry. I might have deserved it."

"I just needed to… let it out so someone." She approached her. "Could you…please keep it to yourself?"

"Sure thing, sugah."

They crossed in silence the dining room and made their way to the parlor. Rogue did not feel lucky. Her head was spinning as it was and she couldn't understand when she had become a bearer of secrets for this family. She was in desperate need of a drink.

In the parlor Olivia was seated on the leather sofa, a piece of cake in her hand and a bottle of liqueur on the table with small, porcelain glasses next to it. Merci went to take a seat next to her.

"Now, let's see this miracle Tante has prepared."

"Emil, as I told my sons, I'll tell y' d'same: dere comes a moment in life when you have to create some balance. Settle down. Y' can't stray for too long or you'll lose the train."

Her husband rolled his eyes from next to the fireplace, where he had his arm rested. He grinned in the glass.

"She says that, but when it comes to commitment she wouldn't let the boys out of sight. If another woman steps the threshold of our house she immediately activates into a harpy. Dese boys won't ever leave their mama's nest with that attitude."

The woman grimaced.

"Oh, would you please knock it out with your bad humor. It's only normal that I want the best for my boys." Then she looked back at the man standing next to the bar and pouring himself some southern comfort. Everyone tried to suppress their smiles as Olivia went on with her advices. The man pretended to listen carefully.

Rogue had stopped at the entrance. Besides Olivia and Merci, the only men in the room were Emil, Henri and Belize. She eyed the chocolate liqueur on the table next to the two women. Chocolate liqueur wasn't going to help her mood at all. The precious Italian replica globe cabinet that Emil was using to fill his glass was another story though. She blamed Logan for her bad habits.

"I mean… all you need is a pretty, domestic young lady. If you want to continue with your small escapes from time to time, there's nothing stopping you. A smart woman knows when to turn a blind eye on trivialities like this. In the end, the husband has only one place in which he will return unconditionally."

Marci was munching on her cake with much pleasure. "Hmm… I'd much rather turn him a black eye when he returns home."

The room exploded in laughers.

"Henri, come on; let's leave the ladies solve their conflict of opinions. I don't want to get myself caught in discussions that are way over my head."

Rogue panicked. Was she going to be left there, with only the prying eyes and ears of the women? This was horrible! She hated this sort of situations. She never liked talking about shoes, perfumes, jewelry or fashion. She only loved wearing them. And she feared the moment when the conversation would shift to men. She… had nothing to compare.

Emil was about to close the globe when she stopped him with pleading eyes.

"Would you mind?"

He looked at her surprised and then at the glass in his hand.

"Are you sure, chere? Dere's some liqueur on the table for de ladies."

Her eyes went back to the two women on the sofa.

"You drink chocolate liquor and talk about diets and rules of marriage." She answered almost insulted.

He laughed and grabbed another glass, pouring her two fingers of alcohol.

He was about to put the lid back on when she instantly drank it all in one go. He was shocked when she stretched her arm for another fill. Her face was grimaced from the taste.

"I got this."

Bemused he obliged and added two more fingers.

"Thanks."

Just like that she made her way through the approaching men towards an armchair. She liked distance.

They grabbed Emil and continued through a door on the wall with the fireplace.

"We'll be down in the bar, if you need us, ladies."

Emil proceeded after them before sparing one more look at the woman he was leaving behind. The look on her face inspired him a bit of pity. Leaving her with only Merci and aunt Olivia was not only part of their routine after dinners; but was also another opportunity to convince her to open up and get more information from her.

* * *

He jerked his elbow and the ball rolled silently right into the pocket of the table.

"Smooth, as always cousin."

"Can't say d'same about you Étienne."The man grinned as he got up. He was leading the game with 5 points.

"If you lose the bet don't look at me for help. Y' lose that watch, y' ain't getting another one with my money." His brother warned him amused.

"Seems like Remy is on a winning hand."

"It just feels good to be back home." He took a sip from his glass and placed it back on the rail of the billiard table.

"I'd say the same if not for the bag of problems you've created."

Everyone fell silent at the heavy voice of his father.

"Can't you let it go for a night at least?"

"This night is precisely arranged to discuss it, Remy."

The man lowered his body again and prepared to hit another ball.

"What? Did she leave you a bitter taste when she didn't fall for yo' traps?"

Belize grinned.

"She's rather sharp de_ petite_, have to admit it."

"You're not fooling anyone. There is clearly something else to the story than what you two are letting out."

He looked up at the man.

"Maybe dere is. But it's between me and her. Nothing that concern you…or the guild."

"How do you plan on handling the news to the Assassins? That you've found yourself a fiancée and breaking the deal with them?"

He missed. Moving away from the table he let Étienne go for a shot.

"There is still the matter of the old council." Remy stole a glance at his father. "They still have a word to say in this. If they validate this engagement, I will confront the Assassins as well. No need to complicate things unnecessarily."

"So you are really planning on going on with this?" Henri's serious tone rang for the first time. "Look, if you really liked the girl, wouldn't it have been simpler to just bed her and keep in contact with her for… occasions? If she's really all that?"

"I don't remember anyone giving you a hard time when you announced your engagement with Merci." His brother glared from above his glass.

"That's because you weren't paying attention. You were too busy spending your night from sheet to sheet all around New Orléans to give it any importance". He went up standing, fists by his side.

"Ei, Ei, boys, cool your attitudes. No need insult each other." Belize was the first to intervene not because he was the wisest but because any conflict between the two would get the rest off-topic.

"You're smart Remy, I give you that. With the approaching cargo trade from the distillery the council won't be in any hurry to pin a verdict. We need the assassins as clueless as we can. You're buying yourself time, boy. I know that much."

The man nodded at Theoren to refill his glass.

"Have it your way. Starting today I'll stop questioning you about it. But if all hell unleashes you'll be held responsible."

Remy swallowed the long mouth of alcohol and it went the wrong way. His father had a certain charm in making him comfortable.

"Étienne, you're really rusty, _mon ami_." he said as his friend missed his shot.

He went around the table and bent for his next shot. His eyes went along the cue, crossed the table and landed on the entrance to the bar room. What surprised him was that he heard no sound coming from the heels and yet, he saw through the cigar smoke the slim pair of legs stopping on the last step of the stairs and the hem of her green dress appear from the shadows. Had she just arrived or had she been listening to their talk. He got up and acknowledged her presence.

As she entered the room she met his eyes. Rogue had her crystal glass in her hand. Soon all eyes were on her.

"Oh, don't mind me gentleman… Merci took Olivia upstairs to ask her for some advice on the color she should choose for the new wallpaper in the room and I just wanted to stretch my legs."

As to prove her point she started to look around at the paintings and glass cases along the walls.

There was an exchange of looks between the men. They did mind her intrusive presence but didn't speak on it.

"It looks like you're redecorating your room, Henri' Laughed Emil. "Good luck with that. I heard there are some new expensive Italian models in town." Needless to say, the man didn't find it funny.

"And why didn't you go with them, if that was the case, _chere_?"

Remy narrowed his eyes but just to ease the atmosphere went back to the game.

The woman tilted her head and took a sip from her drink as she passed a glass protecting a bust. It seemed like this family had quite a collection in this room.

"Mmm… I just drew the line at 'burgundy might help the mood during foreplay but during the day, with the powerful sun you get in that room it will end up looking cheap'."

Every man stopped from what they were doing. She turned, the glass still attached to her lips. Slowly she let it down and a pertinent smile tugged at the corner of her lips. " …. You asked." she shook her head innocently. With that she resumed what she was doing.

Henri felt like he wanted to be swallowed by the ground.

To save the man the embarrassment of mean comments so typical for the men of this family, Emil cleared his voice.

"You haven't been in this room before?"

"Noo….hmm… quite impressive."

"It should be… Jean-Luc is quite proud of his small collection.' Belize commented.

The woman's keen interest made Remy feel uncomfortable.

She froze.

"Burn me…. Is that a Rembrandt?" Her eyes went round in wonder as she approached the painting.

Jean-Luc turned in his chair to see her frame.

"You have a good eye, _petite_. Some of these are the real thing but some of them are simply replicas."

"No, no… no need for modesty." She grinned as she spared him a look before returning to the painting for a closer look. "This is by no mistake an original."

"Oh?" he returned the grin truly amused.

"Last time I saw this painting it was hanging on one of the walls of Baron Strucker's mansion." She turned to him before continuing her routine. "Congratulation for your acquisition."

The thief didn't know what to get from her words. Her light manners showed no malice but he couldn't pin it. He eyed Remy instead.

"You know Baron Strucker..."

"Not personally" she answered nonchalantly, pausing for a second in front of another case. "I was invited to one of his parties once or twice… by…"she smiled to herself "a mutual acquaintance".

"Beautiful, educated, good tastes, and with high connections; I seem to forget why we're not congratulating Remy for his choice."

Leave it to his uncle to poke around the bee nest. On his side Remy was starting to get really irrigated. If only his family knew. Oh the irony of it all and he couldn't enjoy it.

But then something truly got her attention. Left speechless, she approached a shelf with many objects. Her eyes fell on a gloriously decorated Fabergé egg made out of crystal and pure white pearls.

"Beautiful." She barely breathed.

Jean-Luc looked at the object that caught her interest.

"Ah yes… that little treasure."

At that Remy simply stood still and looked at her. He frowned. The strange glimmer in the woman's eyes was disconcerting. He remembered what happened to the chalice he was supposed to trade and the feeling only grew stronger.

Otherwise, his father returned to his drink.

"One of a kind. Well… that is not exactly correct. When the jeweller Fabergé made that one for the royal family he made a twin piece; to commemorate the survival of the royal newborn and the death of the mother queen. "

"Oh… and what happened to the other one?" She asked. Rogue took another sip from her glass and an uneasy thought caught up with her. Subconsciously she played with her earring.

"Well… I would have gotten the second one as well but it was stolen and its value dropped drastically. It was found sold on the black market without the matching black pearls it had in the design.'

Rogue froze; the taste of the alcohol at her lips.

"Remember dat affair, Belize ? Ugly business. They never traced the thief and the pearls never resurfaced like the rest of the egg did."

Slowly Rogue let her hand fall and she gulped down the remaining liquid from her glass. Then she caught Remy's eyes. The man didn't lose her out of his eyes as his hand went for his own glass, mimicking her gesture. He swallowed hard and his eyes skipped around the room, checking every man. Thankfully no one was looking at her directly.

He coughed. "Emil… would you kindly?" he pushed his empty glass ahead. He. needed. another. drink. Then he glanced back at the woman, an image of pure baffle on his face.

The woman shrugged and smiled sheepishly before attempting to cover the front of her black pearled necklace. She turned her back to the men and let them divert from the topic.

The woman walked around the room until she covered it all. Some of the objects Jean-Luc kept there were fantastic. She almost giggled at the thought of what she could do with them. The alcohol was making her more relaxed that she should allow herself to be.

She stopped next to Emil. She looked at the tall man, leaning against the wooden counter of the bar.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. She was looking right at him. He grinned and got the message.

"This is strong liqueur, chere. Y' sure?"

"What can I say, I have a strong taste for everything sweet."

He obliged.

"I take it my cousin is sweet tah ya?"

She smiled politely at the rich sight of the southern comfort.

"As sweet as a mango." _She hated mangos. _

Étienne missed.

"Aww, that was such a bad move." She let out, finally setting to watch the game of billiard.

"It seems like I'm winning, little cousin." The man laughed and went for his turn.

Rogue frowned and glared at his cue.

"Isn't Remy cheating?"

The man next to her looked at her and let out a short laugh. Their conversation was low enough to leave the others out of it.

"Anna, everyone in this family is cheating." He was referring at the game but then he glanced at her. "So keep your pretty green eyes opened just to be safe."

"Why thank you. That was the first nice thing someone said to me since I got here."

Emil tried not to laugh and he ended up smiling at her.

Just to make fun of the situation Rogue winked.

"You have some pretty eyes yourself."

At that the man couldn't suppress it anymore. She was such a sharp chatter.

It was definitely the alcohol that made her act so …like her.

"Are you flirting with me?" He continued to laugh.

Well…maybe she was… but that's who she was. She hated sulking about her condition. At times she would fall into that dark place but for as much as she could she loved to be open-minded and enjoy at least a good conversation if touch was out of her reach. But maybe her flirty attitude was not such a smart idea since the guy was the cousin of her supposed fiancé, even if she meant nothing by it.

She laughed in her glass.

"That would be unethical."

Remy couldn't get what they were talking about but the laughter did reach him. He was annoyed. Emil was a great guy. He never liked conflict so he had probably been neutral to her in order to avoid creating more problems. But how on earth had she managed to make him so relaxed around her was beyond him. He couldn't have fallen for her lies as well.

He missed.

Ah damn… his mind had been somewhere else and the ball skipped too powerfully.

"Looks like y'get a second chance."

Étienne was not very optimistic even so. Remy was ahead of him in points and only few balls left to play.

He went for the easiest one.

"Ntz. Ah wouldn't do that." Her voice came from the bar. She returned to her glass.

The young man licked his lips and considered. Then shifted his cue and tried another hit.

"hmmmm…." She clicked her tongue against the teeth in disapproval.

At that Remy turned to her.

"_Chere_, you got something to say?"

Only then she realized she must have commented out loud. Caught on the act she tried to find a modest way out of it.

"Ah was just thinking he might need a bigger number, that's all."

"Well, then, if you think y' can do better why don't you take the cue."

She didn't appreciate his tone.

"And make you lose in front of your family? Ah wouldn't dream of it."

"Oh?" he laughed, intoxicated with alcohol and the smoke of cigars coming from his father and Belize. "Please, do so. Remy promises he won't hurt if he'll be defeated."

She rolled her eyes. But everyone was staring at her. She hated to back away.

"Fahne." She put her glass on the rail and took the cue from the hand of Étienne, whose protests went unnoticed. "But when Ah win Ah want half of what he was getting out of the bet."

Belize poured some more bourbon. This was going to be interesting. Short, but interesting. The only woman they had seen at the billiard table was Merci and that only because Henri tried to teach her. But she was not a fan.

Remy smirked.

"And how do you know dere is a bet?"

She was too annoyed to look up at him, both at his attitude and at herself for being so weak and falling for it.

"There's always a bet." And she was right. There always was. She was no stranger to billiard. If anything, she was quite skilled. Well, she was no stranger to any sort of casino games. Partially because of all the times she has spent picking her targets in those places; but mostly because she had lived and traveled years next to Logan and his habits. She was quite at home when it came to it. That was her territory as well.

She went on his side and bent down.

Remy frowned. He had forgotten about that part. He thought to himself that there was a reason why the women in this family weren't playing billiard. She was quite decent in her elegant dress and jumper but even through those modest clothes, a prying eye could fall for her curves.

Henry looked away instinctively while Theoren hid behind his glass. Étienne, closer to them wanted to look away but ended up fixed on her. Remy hit him with the cue over his head and grinned.

Rogue focused and skipped the cue forward. The white ball hit the 4 forcefully and it hit repeatedly the walls of the pocket. But never fell.

Remy's grin only got bigger.

Rogue got up quite quickly and followed the white ball hit the wall and return to the center of the table. It hit the 7 with force. The ball rolled and hit all 4 walls before slowing down. Almost an eternity after, the ball approached the upper corner. With a last effort, it got swallowed by the hole.

"Well, sugah…Ah guess that makes us even."

She went to return the cue back to the owner.

Remy narrowed his eyes.

"Giving up? You're one point away from victory."

"I only helped. It's not my game."

"Or you're just scared that was a lucky hit."

That was by no means a lucky hit. But he couldn't let her step away. He had no idea she was good at this. Plus… he was actually enjoying their bicker.

"That was no lucky hit, and you know it, cajun!" she spun on her feet.

"Den, prove it, _chere_. All y' have to do is to send the black ball in the socket."

She narrowed her eyes. But nevertheless she returned to the table.

She calculated her hit and went down; held her breath for this simple shot, just like Logan had taught her; and she hit.

But she suddenly jumped and the cue skipped to the side, losing control over the ball. She watched in horror as she completely missed. But instantly she shot fire through her eyes at the man.

"Ah can't believe yah did that!"

He brought his glass up to his sly grin.

"D' what, petite?"

"You charged the table yah cheap swamp rat!"

In a blink she was centimeters away from him, cue dangerously crushing in her fist, a growl in her powerful Mississippi accent.

"Tutz-tutz! No calling names in front of my family. What impression would we make to _mon pere_?" He tried not to laugh at her short temper. "And y'can't prove it."

"Yah charged the table, admit it! I felt it."

"Come on, chere…we can't all be winners."

She wanted to say something but ended up huffing. She looked at the table.

"Ok. Then it's your turn."

"_Chere_…"

"The game is not over until the black ball is off the table. It's your turn."

He could only grin as he looked down at her red lips.

"Hit the ball."

"Now you're being irrational."

If possible, she stepped even closer.

"Hit. the. ball."

Suddenly he felt her leg between his and for a second his grin dropped. He was not so sure she was aware of how close she was to him.

"Ok, ok. We'll have it your way."

Her eyes narrowed but she calmed down.

"Good."

He was about to relax and let go of the breath he was holding when, as she moved past him, she let the side of her leg linger along his inner thigh.

He tilted his head and exhaled.

He had enough alcohol in his body to react to the closure. He went to the side of the table where she was waiting. Remy looked down at her.

"Do you mind giving me s'me space?"

She said nothing just glared.

He puffed his cheeks amused by her stubbornness and went down, by her side, over the table. His head was right under her chest and that alone was a distraction. When he let his mind travel to it he regretted because now he couldn't get the rhythm of her breathing out of his system.

He fixed the black ball with his eyes. For a second he thought her breathing intensified. Remy turned the cue in his hand trying to stay focused. He pulled his arm backwards and prepared for the last hit. He thrust forward and in that second everything around him turned red as an avalanche of emotions crashed over him. _Lust, passion, arousal, pure sexual ecstasy and when he closed his eyes he could only see her naked body twist in pleasure under him. He heard her moan _and was brought back to reality when his body convulsed over the table.

He stood unmoved as the white ball went straight ahead and fell into one of the pockets along the wall.

Somewhere in the distance he heard Merci's voice.

"Anna? Where did you go?"

He stared dumbly at the black ball.

"Oh well, Ah guess that takes some good points from you."

She put the cue down and as fast as she could she made her way to the stairs.

Henri looked at his brother, more concerned over his previous state than the game.

"Wha' just happened?"

Remy straightened and sought support in the cue.

"_Chere…?" _But his voice was low and now bare of any humour.

She skipped across the room in a matter of seconds without looking back.

"Sorry darlin' Merci is lookin' for me."

And with that she left him in the middle of the bar not only angry at how abused he felt but also troubled by the state of his body.

* * *

Rogue forgot how many times she wished for the night to end. And finally it had happened. Jean-Luc and Henri were escorting the guests to the exit and she took the chance to escape. She thought of running right to her room but the thought of fighting the humid air of the night so early in the night sitting in her bed wasn't very encouraging. Plus… the alcohol did a small number on her. She barely felt dizzy but it got her hotter than it was necessary.

So she made her way across the house to the backyard porch. She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and pushed the doors, finally embracing some fresh air. The woman stretched after she let the door close but the moment of peace didn't last long. She felt the smell of smoke. Alarmed she opened her eyes and looked to her left only to find Remy LeBeau staring at her. He was almost lying on the long porch swing, one leg hanging on the ground, one stretched over the embroidered pillows, a cigarette hanging at the corner of his mouth and a glass in his hand. She was sure that, unlike her, he wasn't having water.

All that Rogue wanted was to turn on her feet and leave that exact instant but that would have only made her look weird and scared. Instead she found her voice.

"So this is where you disappeared. You know your cousins are leaving."

He kept fixing her with his red eyes. That unnerved her a lot.

"Good for them."

She felt her throat dry. Rogue looked around.

"Well… ah should go get some sleep."

She was about to turn when he answered again.

"Dere's enough place for both of us, you can sit if y' want."

She looked conflicted.

Finally he seemed to get out of the weird trance in which he was and rolled his eyes. He pushed his upper body up and retracted his leg.

"I'm not going to bite, _chere_. No need to back away just because the porch was taken."

She gave it a thought. Hell... she was tired and she wanted a breath of fresh air. How much awkward could this get? No more prying eyes on them… at least she could stop pretending now.

With heavy steps she approached the swing and took a sit on the far left, keeping her distance.

They were silent. He hadn't looked away from her for a second but neither had he said anything. She drank from her water.

"Heard y' spent a lot of time back here while you were here."

Rogue only glanced at him.

"It was quiet."

He looked at her before letting his head fall backwards.

His leg started to put the swing into motion.

"mmm…it is quiet most of the time compared to the rest of the house."

He gazed at the canopy above their heads while she looked ahead into the darkness of the night.

The woman stole a glance his way.

"… this was a long night…" she let out a long sigh.

"mmm…" his eyes fell back on her. "What did my aunt and Merci ask you while you were alone?"

"Stuff…" she shrugged. "Nothing that I couldn't answer."

He took a long sip from his drink and analyzed her expression. "Remy's not the first mutant y'met, is it'?"

He saw her tense. She shook her head.

"No… Ah.. know quite a few." Rogue looked down at the glass in her hands. She needed to avoid the subject. He might be a mutant and understand but he wasn't suspecting anything yet and she wasn't stupid to let go of her last hidden card. She was in his territory; she needed a back-up plan if things went wrong. But he was not an idiot. In order to make her story believable she needed to get as close to the truth as she could. "Ah used to live with one for a while" She looked up at him and smiled knowingly. "Then Ah met some while… doing what Ah do."

That he could understand. When you have inhuman powers using them in your advantage is a sin most of them liked to fall for.

"And what is it that y' are actually doin', _chere_?" he grinned absentmindedly.

Watching his handsome devilish expression made her more comfortable and she actually returned the grin. Maybe it was the warm night, or the sound of crickets in the grass, or even the exhaustion that both of them were under but she felt more relaxed at that point; swinging gently, enjoying the southern air in which she had grown up.

"Y're not exactly a thief since you clearly don't take jobs from anyone. Otherwise you'd have been easier to find in the web of connections. And y're not a swindler either. Y' have no legal property, home or identity. You don't grow money… so… what are you?'

She looked ahead of her but the grin never left her lips, if anything it grew. But it adorned her face in a weird, uneasy way.

"Ah am what they say Ah am. Ah'm the Rogue. Ah see thinks that Ah like - Ah make them mahne. Ah'm just making the most of mah life."

He furrowed his eyebrows, remembering something.

"That story that you said at the table… was any of that true?"

She turned her head to catch his eyes.

'It's true for your family."

He narrowed his eyes, judging the answer that he received.

"At least your accent is true."

"Mmm?" she brought the glass to her lips. "What makes you say that? Ah have many accents."

He puffed out a laughter.

"You do. But each time you lose your temper it becomes more powerful. Also in London, you skipped back to it quite a few times. And that night in France…. Yeah… I remember that."

He grinned as he raised the glass to her.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes.

"Is Anna even your true name? Or is it just one of your inventions?"

She paused, which confused him.

"It is now."

Remy looked at her a while longer before giving up. She wasn't going to take any of his questions seriously. Why even bother. And she was right in her own way. The less he knew about her the better. Once they were out of this shit he would break all ties with her; no need to bring whatever messed-up case se was on him.

"So what do we do now?"

Her question brought him back from his thoughts.

His light mood was instantly sunk by the burden of their situation. He looked at the glass and got the cigarette out of his mouth. He let out the smoke and watched it disappear in thin air.

"Now we lay a low profile." He looked at her for a reaction. "I should have kicked you out. Explain to my family who you are and what y're doing here and let them hand you to Lansky's men patrolling Louisiana. But I might need you later."

"How very considerate."

He chose to neglect her comment.

"We need to stay put until the rage calms down. Probably the syndicate lost a lot of men in conflicts because of us. They are in for blood. They might have already linked me to it but as long as we're here none of them would dare bring havoc into someone else's territory. New Orléans is ruled by the Guilds. Both Luciano and Lansky know better than to enrage more parties for a misplaced stone. But they don't forget; won't let us go easy. When things will calm down a bit I'll try get in contact with one of the parts –set a 'reconciliation' price. That's when you come into picture. Whatever price they'll ask for, we'll have to find a way to cover it."

She frowned.

"Ah think Ah said this before but… there's no way Ah can gather that much money in a life time. Remember the price they had last time on us? Something tells me they won't stop at 300 million dollars to help them _forget _about the incident."

"Let's first reach that point and let me handle that talk. And now we're two in this. If we're lucky in a few well-placed jobs and thefts we should be ok." He stopped and eyed her without any humour or assumption. "You'd better be as good as the reputation that you've made for yourself or we'll spend an eternity together."

"Don't worry. I don't plan on spending an eternity engaged to you."

He took one last drag from his cigarette. "Well, there's always marriage."

Instantly her head turned to him, a glare in her eyes. "That's not funny." But in spite of his joke there was not a single muscle on his face that was showing any sign of hilarity.

That brought her to another problem that she needed answered.

"If … _when_ your plan works and we're good again…how do we… handle the problem with your family?"

He wanted to put it all on her since she was the one that got them in such a mess but he knew that in the end it was up to him to clean that one as well.

"It's not easy to unbind a ceremonial union, but there… are some ways around it."

"Ceremonial?" she panicked.

"Let me finish." He let out a sigh of annoyance. He knew she was going to react at it. That's why it was no pleasure to talk to her about it. "The ring y' put on your finger is as old as the Guilds from Louisiana - the Thieves and the Assassins. It's a mark of loyalty and union passed from generation to generation usually to the next in line as leader of the guild. The Assassins have one of their own. Of course, the high council has to validate the union but once the ring is placed the deed is almost done."

"High council?"

And another question.

"_Oui._ Elders of the Guild. Usually just a pain in the neck, they supervise the decisions of my father, who is currently in charge of the Thieves."

"And he wants yah to take his place one day."

"Precisely." He went on when he knew he had her attention. "They believe in traditions and the old rules. Rules never change in the Guild; they remained the same from the beginning of times."

"Well… that's a stupid attitude. Times change… if they don't bend the rules accordingly to the times wouldn't it make things unnecessarily difficult?"

He arched an eyebrow. Now that was an opinion he thought he'd never hear inside the walls of this house. He chose to laugh.

"I honestly have no idea how you survived here so far."

She looked away and grinned.

"Ah'm good at what ah do. You said it yourself: Ah have a reputation."

Her grin was contagious.

"Right. The good part is that they will probably stop asking you questions and testing you now that I confirmed your story. That don'mean that they will go easy on y'. You'll have a hell of a time here."

She took a deep breath. "About those… 'ways around it' that yah mentioned…"

"Yes… I'll have to look into that. All rules have flaws. They were never my concern since I wasn't planning on falling into them anytime soon so I'll have to spend some time on them. I'll find a way. And if there's nothing we can do… and I don't actually end up killing you for good along the line…" he shot her a riled glare "there's always the option of faking a death."

Rogue took in his words. She watched him unfazed and returned to her water. "Ah can do that. Ah died a few times before."

He had been serious and she treated the subject with the same maturity; but somehow the calmness with which she said those words bothered him. It felt wrong. There were so many questions around her: who she was, where did she come from, how she got where she was now…. But he decided not to make her more of his problem than she already was.

"Just stay put. Make sure you're not spotted by anyone and… don't leave this house unless I am with you."

"Sounds fun." She muttered more to herself.

"Don't complain."

She let out a sigh. He was right. She really had no right to complain. In the end… she had her back assured. That is what she wanted to start with.

"I'm going to get some sleep. It's late."

Remy watched her pushing her body up from the swing. One of the pillows fell and she went down to get it and place it back. In her smooth gestures she moved the air around her and the sweet, rich scent of her perfume reached his senses. As she made her way back to the door he considered what she had told him that morning after smelling the perfume of another woman on him. He thought he'd never care for such small details when it came to women. But only then it crossed his mind what big of a difference they made. He realized what kept him calm throughout the constant attacks of his family during the night. He had found balance in her intoxicating scent.

She was by the door when he put his cigarette down on the wooden rail of the porch and threw it in the grass.

"Good night, Anna."

Rogue froze with her hand on the handle, a knot in her throat. Hearing his voice let out those few words made her heart beat unreasonably fast. Why had she chosen to give them this particular name when they asked? It simply… slipped through her lips. They had called her that many times but she was prepared for it. And they never used it the way he did. She looked up at him for an instant. The man was making himself comfortable again, lying back on the entire swing. How long had it been since the last time she had heard these three words?

She pushed the door opened.

"'Good night!"


	9. Accommodations

**a.n.: **1. First of all... wow! thank you for the reviews... I have so many things on my head but..with such great reception - I couldn't stay away from the story. So, here it is - a small 'between chapters' treat. I am working on another chapter right now so next week or so I'll add a new update. You reviews have been FANTASTIC! thank you so much.

2. Secondly... to answer to some of the questions that I've been asked, without giving any spoilers regarding the story"

**Emma: **Yes, the scene in chapter 3 is a bit like that particular scene from Wild Target. I loved the way in which it was filmed and I used it to get more deep into the sort of character Rogue is. Because we followed Remy's line of thoughts, his evaluation as a thief over the way in which she was operating. Now, Rogues seems to be always one step ahead of Remy but that's only because she had the advantage of having a taste of who he is and how he thinks. Other than that, she's not exactly planning anything. I like to keep her faithful to her original character so she's rather pushy, impulsive, quick-tempered; but she's a master at improvising. She's not wise, she's smart; she has all these experiences coming from the people she has absorbed and I like to think that she learns how to cope with them, use it in her own advantage. if those psyches remain in her head she might as well take what she needs out of it.

Now... tante Mattie... that is an interesting part of the story. She knows her fair share and I am planning to have her and Rogue interact a lot in the future.

**rouge queen: **since we're discussing family members... Emil - no, he's not going to fall for Rogue. :)) But he's actually one of the two members of the family that will get along with and stick up for Rogue. (Next chapter will be dedicated to the second one ;) ) Emil is Remy's best friend and true ally in the Thieve's Guild. When Rogue landed in the middle of the Guild, Emil made a personal matter of watching over her until Remy would get back and have the chance to explain. Emil is, unlike Remy, a more steady person...his better half so to say; and while Remy is conflicted between not liking Rogue and channeling his frustration in any other way than sexually, Emil is actually enjoying her smart presence. And Rogue will appreciate his straightforward attitude. I am really hoping that I will be able to grasp their friendship in the best way possible. Plus..they will end up in the same point eventually, having something in common: caring for Remy.

and yes, Rogue knows about Remy's empathy. That's why she used it against him at the billiard game. She doesn't' exactly know the extent of his power but she knew she could force it unto him. And there is one more thing related to his empathy... I like to go for the version in which he can force certain feelings into people as well. But as someone has pointed out, there is something 'fishy' in the entire scheme of powers between Rogue and Gambit. Empathy will at some point be a big giveaway. But...that's for future chapters to discuss...

**and finally: big big SHOUT-OUT: I am looking for a beta reader. As you can see my chapters are filled with typos that simply escape me, no matter how much I try to focus and get rid of them. If anyone out there would be so incredibly awesome as to go through them I would remain in their debt. I promise it won't even be a demanding job :)) because of the lack of time I don't exactly update regularly or often, so maybe, once in a blue moon, when I can update, I wound be incredibly grateful if another pair of eyes would go through the chapter and correct my mistakes. Thank you in advance! **

* * *

**Accommodations**

* * *

_She looked at the men in front of her and frowned. With crossed arms she tried to keep her calm. If only they knew how to listen to her. Theories, theories, theories… and yet when they looked at her it was only to ask her if she wanted something else from the menu. _

_She tucked a lock of her fiery hair behind her ear and stole a glance at the far bar, allowing herself to catch the eyes of the man that kept staring at her. She bit her lip and had a hard time looking away from him when she heard her name._

"_Jean? Jean are you still with us?"_

"_Sorry, what were you saying?"_

_One of the men laughed._

"_Come on, it's a beautiful night, let's not bore the lady with such gory matters of anatomy."_

_She frowned again._

"_Well… it's not like you would even listen to what I have to say. And neurology is neither gory not boring. Also, you seem to forget I am a doctor as well. No need to simplify the discussion on such barbaric terms as 'anatomy.'"_

_Her fiancé wanted to protest but she cut him off._

"_If you'll excuse me. I'll go get myself something from the bar."_

_She got on her feet and with each step she took her heart beat faster and faster. What she was doing was madness. She was never that sort of woman. She was a respectable medic. Or that's what she liked to believe…even when more often than she was comfortable with, people would laugh in her face when she'd tell them what she does for a living._

_She stopped at the bar, in the close vicinity of the man that kept following her moves all night long. As she placed her order she glanced at the smoke that left his cigar._

_She was going to regret what she was about to do._

"_Thank you." she said as she gripped her glass of wine._

_The man frowned._

'_The thing that you said about my eyes… it was sweet coming from a man like you…'_

_But she spoke none of the words. His cigar almost fell from the corner of his mouth when realization hit him. Instead he took a mouthful from his whisky and brought a finger up to the bartender for another round._

"_A man like me, darlin'?" his grin showed his perfect teeth._

"_I saw you in the boxing ring. You look impressively clean for a man who not two hours ago was covered in blood." But she smiled knowingly._

_He growled in pleasure at her keen smile. _

"_Can I offer you something?"_

_She looked back at the table. He followed her eyes._

"_I think you mistake me for some other sort of woman…"_

"_No, I think I got you right. I think you're far smarter than those pansies from your table."_

_She glared._

"_One of those 'pansies' happens to be my fiancé."_

_She pushed herself up from the bar, ready to leave._

"_See you around, darling…."_

_With one look over her shoulder she answered to his impertinence._

"_I doubt it."_

_Later that night her mind was intoxicated by alcohol and the smell of smoke that his entire body was sweating. _

_She felt the cold bricks of the wall on her skin as she was pushed out of the city's night lights. A moan escaped her lips when his hand gripped the hair on the back of her head and pulled her head up, allowing himself to the tender flesh of her neck. She considered once again how her heart was pounding with the thrill of going off the books. She felt so dirty….and yet… so good. _

_The sound of his growled voice sent chills down her spine. His cold hand slipped up, under her red dress. She bit her lip in ecstasy and his name slipped off her teeth._

"…_."_

Rogue jumped up, sweat running down her neck. Gasping for air she looked desperately around her, trying to see in the dark and understand where she was.

Her hands went down and she met the soft duvets of the king-sized bad which she was occupying. Her chest went up and down frenetically and her head was hurting like mad. It had been a dream… well... more than a dream. But what she saw next scared her even more. In a split of a second she jumped out of bed and froze in the middle of the room. Turning around she watched horrified the bedside lamp levitating in midair, unplugged and still emitting light.

"No, no, no, no…this is bad…" she let out a panicked whisper.

She approached the object not knowing what to do. She tried to force it back with her mind but it was no use. She tried to pull it down but it was as if a force was keeping it in place.

She bit her lip and looked around for ideas. When none came to her mind she put her hand under the frosted glass and gripped the light bulb. She winched when her flesh came in contact with the hot surface and shook her hand away. She had no other idea so she took a deep breath and gripped it again twisting it as fast as she could. The bulb went off and she skipped back when the lap came crashing down at her feet.

Her first thought made her turn into a statue, listening if there was any commission coming from outside because of the noise that the lamp had made in its fall. When nothing happened she let out a long sigh and allowed herself to move. She gripped the damaged lamp and avoided the shards as she placed it back on the bedside cabinet.

Rogue let her body fall back on the bad, all her hours of sleep going to hell in only a couple of minutes. She covered her eyes with her forearm and tried to calm herself down. She was coping with the sensation of dizziness and she knew that soon she'll also feel sick. It was getting worse and she felt her body shake as these episodes were starting to happen more often.

And of all the people in her head it had to be Jean… and her first fuck with Logan… how repelling…

She tried to stay calm in hopes that it would all wash away but she was out of luck. She pushed her head backward to look through the opened windows. It was still dark outside. She wondered what was the hour. Then she remembered that the only clock that she had in the room was now broken. With a heavy exhale she pushed her upper body up and grabbed the broken lamp. Well, the clock had stopped at twenty minutes past four in the morning so at least she knew that much.

She couldn't sleep and she feared that no matter how much she tried, it would be of no use. So she got up on her feet and pulled a long dressing gown over her sleeping dress. She welcomed the feeling of cold satin over her skin and was thankful to have packed it with her as well. Her dress was not exactly the dullest thing on earth and she would have hated to walk so exposed inside the walls of this house. Rogue considered a pair of shoes but she wanted to be as quiet as she could. Another person in her already crowded mind was not something she was looking up to.

Carefully, she opened the door to her room and slipped outside. It was complete darkness and not a single sound reached her ears. Like that she made her way down the corridor and to the stairs. She took her time to the lower level part because the stairs might squeak part because she felt as if she was going to throw up at any moment.

She went into the kitchen and grabbed a large glass from one of the drawers. It felt awkward that not a single person could be seen nor heard. She knew for a fact there were always men guarding the house but apparently they were keeping their distance. As she opened the metallic refrigerator and grabbed the heavy decanter of sweet tea, she took a note that it was in her advantage that they were more focuses on people who might enter the house other than try to leave it. She filled her glass with tea and after putting the decanter back she went for the freezer and grabbed a couple of ice cubes from the small container. She hated to admit it, but ever since she had tasted Tante's sweet southern tea she had fallen in love with it. It reminded her of her childhood, and even if it hadn't been the happiest, the aroma of her tea reminded her of her old nannie and how she always used to treat her with the same thing.

Rogue took a seat at the wooden cooking table and let the taste sink. She closed her eyes and let her mind travel back to a memory she knew it was hers and only hers, where no voice or nightmare could catch up with her. It had always been the same. Long after the absorption faded she was left with their memories always fighting over when her conscience was asleep. She had many dreams and it took her a while to realise that they were not just dreams, but someone else's memories coming to life. Logan's were the worst; his pain, his loneliness, his years spend in wars, the experiments… and then Eric Lehnsherr... the things she had seen through his eyes… those god forsaken facilities where they dissembled mutants as if they were guinea pigs… her skin crawled. Both men had chosen to forget all of that... well… Logan had no way it in except the bullets that he had received into his head that left him with blank voids in his mind. But not her; she would see them without a veil… without sense or power of censorship… and she couldn't shut them down.

She took another mouthful of the liquid and rested her head on her arm. The dizziness was going away. Why did it have to be Jean this time? Their first encounter… her vivid memories of a man who would never watch Rogue the way he was seeing her. Nothing could be more painful and tearing than this. What as Logan doing now? Was he worried about her whereabouts? Did he understand why she had to leave?

She missed him…. Thinking of it she was not sure if she was missing him or his protective presence. She hated the fact that he was right: knowing that he was there always for her made her push her luck all the time, risk too much, thinking that he'll be there to fix her mistakes. Two nights ago, when she had realized she was trapped in this whole Thieves Guild situation and she tried to escape she had to stop herself from calling Logan and tell him she was sorry and to rush him to come and pick her up. She had to learn how to get out of the mess on her own. She also knew how much he hated her for dropping in his life all the time and stopping him from moving forward. She wished…she wished her forward didn't have to stop at him.

Rogue looked up, out the window and wondered if the sun was rising earlier in the bayou or she had lost track of time. Unhappy, she pushed her body from the table and sluggishly made her way to the door. She'd rather return to her room before risking meeting any early bird. Passing through the parlor she let her senses indulge in the smell of leather and musk coming from the furniture. She loved that. If she could, she would just stop and rest on the sofa - but decided that would be an incredibly stupid idea. Taking out the whole mess in which she was… she couldn't complain about the luxury of the house. LeBeau knew his taste. She attributed that to the father really, since Remy seemed to settle with less on … various occasions. She envied him… growing up between these walls and having the certainty of a roof. She adored the luxury… but she could never enjoy too much of it… always on the run she couldn't risk getting too comfortable in a place or somebody was bound to find her. And none of these people were with good intention. She couldn't blame them. No sane person enjoyed being taken by a fool and left empty handed. And she had a reputation of crossing all the wrong people.

Rogue stopped in front of the room of her so called fiancé. _She never stays in one place for long_. A smile played at the corner of her lips. If she was going to get out of this 'sapphire affair' alive … she'd hate to leave this house without something to … remember her by. Her black pearls were practically begging to reunite with their twins. She stepped forward towards her room. But until then… she needed to keep herself busy with something…. And she happened to know the best therapy.


	10. The other fiancée

**a.n.:** I shall start with an apology. I promised I was going to update sooner but then things happened. I had to prepare for the Comic Con here in my country during May and then I had so many papers for work that it killed me. This chapter was written such a long time ago. I only needed to edit it a bit. There might still be some errors in it, I am so sorry. But I rather upload it than wait for another week to get some free time. That's it. no more chatty- chat! let me know what you think though.

* * *

**The other fiancée**

* * *

She grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door opened without hesitation. Two things could happen: 1. He could be in the room and she'd have to explain her sudden intrusion or 2. The room was clear, in which case she was going to be lucky. As she closed the door silently after her she was almost disappointed that it was the latter; against better judgment, she was hoping he'd be a late-morning person and she'd catch him off guard… She took him for the sort of guy who slept in the nude and it wouldn't have bothered her to provide an answer to her small curiosity.

But she could work fine with the given situation as well. Stepping on her toes not to make any noise with her high heels, she proceeded with her plan. Rogue let her small purse on the bed and went directly to the nightstand to look through the drawers. She was grinning like mad when her search proved to be rather short.

"Now let's see how generous a thief's pockets are."

She opened the wallet with easiness. After years of practice she knew exactly where and how to look. She felt a thrilling chill run down her spine.

"Well, well Remy… Ah didn't know you cared so much about your fiancée. You really don't have tah, but if you insist…." She grabbed a handful from those beloved papers and after a moment of consideration went for two more. Her sly grin only grew bigger as she put the wallet back and pushed the money into her purse.

She made her way out of the room, checking the corridor first. She was hoping that everyone would be downstairs having breakfast so that she could make her way out of the house as smoothly as possible. After leaving the scene of the crime, Rogue pulled the delicate chiffon scarf around her head and was ready to pull her sunglasses when the door in front of her opened and out stepped Merci.

She thought about running away since the woman hadn't seen her but she had nowhere to hide. Eventually the blonde looked up and was surprised to find Rogue in a dropped waist dress, patterned à la Raoul Dufy, a matching purse in her hand and a semitransparent scarf around her neck and head.

She frowned.

"Going somewhere, petite?"

What was she to say? No? breakfast? That's not how people dress for breakfast.

"Actually… looking for you."

If someone from the family was to find her, her dreams and hopes of getting out of the house would have turned to ashes.

"Me?" Merci looked both surprised and as if she was being lied to.

"Yes…" Rogue had to go on with the plan. So she detached herself from the place in which she had stopped and advanced towards the woman; might as well tag her along if that was the only way out of it.

"I was thinking about a window shopping day around New Orleans'. I need to get out for some fresh air and I wanted to ask you to come with me. You must know the best places around the city and well, since you're the only woman with good tastes in the vicinity…"

Still not knowing how to react to her words, Merci eyed her carefully. She wasn't an idiot; she could recognize granted compliments when she heard them.

"I don't think that you leaving the house is a good idea."

"Yes, I know… the entire 'we need to find a solution to this engagement situation' chaotic matters. But this is why I wanted to take you with me. I'm not alone outside the house and you see – " she brought her hands up in front of her " - gloves… no one from the outside can see the ring." Well… that was not the reason why she was wearing her long gloves but it was a good argument in her defense.

"I still believe that you should ask –"

She let out an annoyed sigh.

"Look sugah. With or without you, I will leave this house. It's rather an option if you want to come with me or not. Plus... I think it would do you good as well. Nothing takes away the worries like a lovely, relaxing morning downtown. Come on, what do you say?"

The fact that she gave an ultimatum seemed to have an effect on the woman. Rogue knew that she wasn't going to take a single step out if Merci refused and informed Remy of her plan but she chose to go with the bluff. And, it finally worked.

"Alright." she huffed convinced. "Let me take my shawl and purse."

The biggest smile appeared on her lips and Merci felt as if it was contagious because she found herself returning it. As she opened the door to her room again she hoped that she wasn't agreeing to a mistake.

She let the door opened and while Rogue was watching the woman going through the shelves of the heavy closet in the room, she considered how classy people are always dressed properly even inside their houses. All Merci needed was literally her purse because otherwise the woman looked as sharp as ever.

When she returned she spared Rogue a look. Her distinctive white stripes were hidden under the scarf. Rogue notices her interest.

"I know how to be discrete. I don't like attracting attention." And that was true. Not only because it was in her advantage for less people to know of her peculiar connections in the guild but also because she was not going to be an easy prey if Lansky's men were lurking around New Orleans.

The women went down the stairs.

"Don't you want to have breakfast first? They are already at the table."

Rogue waved her hand dismissingly at the thought and mumbled more to herself. "And what a breakfast it would be… probably all the food would get stuck in my throat."

She looked at the woman apologetically as she opened the front door. "It's no secret that I am not the favorite person in this family."

Merci snickered. "Can you blame them?"

"No. But pretending would be a nice gesture."

She stopped. "What's the next step?"

The woman was glad that the question was asked because she went through her purse and acquired a pair of car keys and walked to her beige Chevrolet Eagle.

Rogue arched an impressed eyebrow.

"You drive?"

Yet she lost no time in getting inside the car, next to the driver.

"Honey, if you truly want to be part of this family you have to be a woman of many talents." She joked as the engine purred.

Rogue finally got her round sunglasses and hid her green eyes behind the lens. She only smiled and avoided giving an answer. She had quite a handful of talents. She just was not sure they would know how to handle them.

* * *

Rogue was actually extremely happy with the outcome. Taking Merci out had proven to be an unexpectedly pleasant surprise as she knew the shops from downtown New Orleans by hand. Or better said the owners of said shops knew her. It paid off to be a woman in the LeBeau family, and in what a glorious way. She was instantly greeted by the owners of the finest shops and Rogue had access to the best products. She had by now bought two pair of exquisite shoes and a pair of amazing high waist trousers, together with a delicate minaudiere and had all of them sent to the LeBeau residence. Ah… she could so easily get used to this lifestyle… not bad at all.

"Mademoiselle, could I interest you in the new collection that arrived from Italy?"

Rogue was thrilled at the attention that she was getting but didn't let it show.

"Hmm... something more compact, less volatile do you have? The Italian fashion is not exactly at its peak these days." She smiled. She loved to dress. She always had and with her powers she took the most of it, enjoying being as sophisticated and as à la mode as she could get. She knew how the tailors and fashion houses worked. The less impressed you looked the more chances that they will treat you more humbly and bring you the real merchandise.

She already had ordered a couple of dresses and blouses to be packed, but she looked rather unimpressed by them.

Merci got out of the changing room and took a pirouette in the tea dress she was trying out.

"So? What do you say?"

Rogue took a seat on an arm of the leather sofa.

"Looks perfect on you but… it seems so… local…"

Merci spun and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Miss…"

Rogue turned her head at the approaching mistress of the shop. Right next to her, a young woman was tailing her with a coat hanger up, covering the piece.

"I heard from my girls that our floral models are not exactly to your contentment."

The old stylish woman analyzed Rogue from head to toes.

"Maybe something from the French avant-garde… We don't keep these models upfront since it usually scared away the traditional clientele; and not a lot of women can pull the look, but…"

Now she was interested.

"Do you have something for Merci, here?" she got up and approached the woman.

"Well…" she made a pause, sparing a glance at the blonde client. "not something _ma belle dame _would usually wear.."

"Let's see it." Rogue dismissed her.

The girl stepped ahead and pulled the cotton bag off the dress.

"_Mon dieu_…" unintentionally Rogue satirized their accent "is that a Chanel?"

The woman's eyes glimmered in pleasure when she heard the instant recognition in Rogue's voice.

"Indeed…" she looked pleased at the young apprentice. "_Je t'ai dis! Les yeux et le client. Cette fille a des yeux…. Et quells yeux!" _

"Chanel?" Merci approached them. "But isn't she more specialized in perfume?"

"Sugah, Chanel's perfume is a blessing to our senses but she has amazing ideas in clothes. Not as catchy in America but the European fashion can't have enough of her creations." She stopped and looked into her blue eyes. "Come on, try it! You won't regret it."

She nodded at the girl to go into the changing room with the dress and pushed Merci after her.

The mistress smiled knowingly and showed signs of leaving them alone.

"It is rather peculiar to see such a colorful crayon in the close company of a LeBeau."

Rogue eyed the woman suspiciously but couldn't help the smart smile.

"Not the first time I hear something similar."

"I can only imagine. The women of the family are very classic and sophisticated. They don't venture outside the books. A trait the entire family shares." Then she continued. "I have never seen you around before. Are you a guest at their manor?"

Rogue didn't like the prying attitude of the woman. She couldn't exactly lie because she was afraid news traveled fast in this city.

"What if I were…?"

And suddenly the woman's face brightened with realizations that she did not care to share.

"Ah, I see. Please excuse my curios nature. I understand how things are now."

Rogue was not sure what the woman understood at all because she herself was left confused as if she was missing part of the conversation.

The door of the changing room opened.

"I shall be upfront in the shop if you need my assistance."

Merci stepped out in the elegant straight-lined white evening dress. A simple black ribbon was cupping her middle, meeting a vertical line starting from the base of the high neck and finishing at the hem of the skirt.

Rogue looked at her.

"Wow… you look fantastic."

The woman stopped in front of the mirrors and evaluated herself. Truth being told her pale complexion and blond hair seemed to complete the style. It was different… rather simpler than what she was used to wear at a party but she rarely felt as elegant. She let out a giggle thinking how much she resembled the stars from the Hollywood films.

Rogue approached her.

"Just imagine… with some fine diamonds in your ears…"

Merci stood a moment longer to take in the image in front of her. Then she laughed and rolled her eyes.

"You're a devil, you know that?! Henri will hate to find out I went shopping again."

Rogue stepped back and grinned.

"Well… we all have our guilty pleasures. You're wearing the dress, not the price."

The blonde woman, just a bit shorter than Rogue, kept her grin while going back into the room.

"Anna, around these parts we usually wear the price as well…. how else do you think women show how loved they are by their men?"

"I don't know… by spending less time in front of the public eyes and more behind closed doors?"

She heard the woman laugh from the other room.

Hmm… having someone who was actually willing to laugh with her and indulge common hobbies was fun.

When she was ready they both returned at the front desk. Merci gave the instructions and went out ahead to make sure that the girl was sending the right address to the chauffeur.

The mistress closed her book of sold items and looked up at Rogue.

"Please visit us as often as you want. I shall make sure to be more prepared for a fine eye such as yourself, m_ademoiselle_ . It would be my pleasure to be at your services."

Rogue smiled politely, but not too friendly. One should never be too friendly with hyenas like her.

She fixed her glasses back and wanted to step out of the shop.

"And send my congratulations to Monsieur Jean-Luc. He has the finest tastes."

Rogue blinked and went out a bit confused. Then she froze, a dreadful realization hitting her.

Merci caught sight of her distressed expression.

"What's with you?"

"Did she-… I think she just assumed that I was Jean-Luc's mistress."

Merci stood quiet for a second then let out another rich laughter.

"I guess it could look like that from their point of view."

Rogue caught up with her, trying to overcome her shock.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Anna, look at you… You're a new face in the city. You're young, wildly beautiful and exquisitely dressed. Jean-Luc may be an old wolf, but he still has a way with women. I swear that man is disarming. The older he gets the easier is for him to sweep women off their feet. And the sort of women he had…" she huffed a laugher "… let's say he affords to pick the best looking ones."

Rogue stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She looked along the narrow street, at the windows of the boutiques bathing in the morning sun.

"If I didn't know I'd say it runs in the family."

Merci grinned. "Well, he was a role model for both his sons. But I got my hands on Henri and I've made sure he had eyes just for me ever since. He was never the gross-hopper type anyway. Though Remy's a charmer… I always told Henri: now he's young; but give him time and he'll end up the splitting image of Jean-Luc."

Rogue didn't know how to take the words but somewhere along the line she felt offended. She was about to defend herself when she felt the woman stop.

She looked up and realized that she had stopped in front of one of the many windows, staring down at the objects on the other side.

Her eyes went above, at the sign. It was a children shop. She approached the shop window and glanced at the high framed picture of a mother and their two little sons. She bit her lip, not knowing what she should do or say. She remembered the anger with which the woman had told her about her pregnancy.

Merci was staring down at a wooden box, carefully carved, holding a pair of newborn beige bootees.

The silence was making Rogue uncomfortable. She looked around in hoped that the woman would soon move but it didn't happen.

"So… have you thought what you'd like to have? A boy or a girl?"

She tried to start a conversation.

As if brought back to reality the woman shook her distant thoughts away.

"No…. not really…" she whispered.

This was not going as Rogue was expecting.

"How long are you?"

"A couple of weeks I suppose?"

Rogue looked back at the various objects and toys in the window.

She really couldn't understand what big of a fuss could babies be. She knew she couldn't have one. It was impossible with her mutation. And she didn't know if it was what she really thought on the matter or just a self-induced idea, but children looked to her like loud, headaches-giving, pooping machines. Not to say that when they were new-born they looked completely ugly. And she was perfectly comfortable with her ideas. Better this way.

Without knowing, she ended up staring at the same pair of bootees as Merci. But she felt the woman shift position and without a warning she continued her walk, leaving Rogue behind.

"Come on… you said something about some matching earrings to my new dress."

She needn't say another word.

* * *

Rogue made herself comfortable in the rush chair at the bistro. After all the walking Merci picked a place for them to drink their coffee and take their breakfast at the bistro of a hotel in the French Quarter. She couldn't have enough of New Orleans… It was strange but even if she was from the South she had never been in the city. Maybe because after she ran from home she wanted to have nothing to do with the South anymore. Coming to think of it… it was the first time she had traveled back in the South in years. She breathed in the sweet smell of the city.

Merci was inside, talking to the chef. Rogue was starting to believe this was a dream. Of all the places she could have landed and here she was, in the core of a family that had the best of the city at their little finger. She smiled to herself and opened her purse. Happily she pulled out a delicate bracelet made out of gold. She had procured it today, but unlike most of the things she had played for with Remy's money, this one was all on her skills. Old habits die hard. And why pay for something when you can avoid it. She clipped it around her left wrist, over her glove. The metal shined in the sun and she felt extremely proud with herself.

Merci returned to the table.

"Pierre is back in town. He makes excellent pastry, you'll see."

The woman played with her glasses over the table.

"I could live on this street!" she said in one breath. "I could really get used to this…"

A sly grin appeared on her companion's lips as she brought the cup of coffee up.

"Funny that you should say that… we have an apartment up the street. It's barely used and the doors stay closed unless… Remy is in town." Her smile grew bigger. "Hmm… if everything ends up badly and the engagement falls you could always talk to him, borrow the apartment if you two need it."

Now she felt offended. She was no mistress! … Though she had played the part on numerous occasions….

"If that were to happen I wouldn't stick around."

The woman put her cup down.

"If you say so."

Rogue gave no more attention to her teasing and a curiosity gripped her mind. She looked absentmindedly down the street.

If Remy had an apartment there, why hadn't he called off the engagement and just kept her hidden there? Why would he keep her in the manor with his family? Was he really convinced that she might cross him with the first occasion? Well… she couldn't blame him but… this would have simplified their situation a lot.

Their breakfast was soon brought and it smelled as delicious as it looked.

"Ah, all this shopping made me hungry!"

Rogue laughed at the woman and considered her words.

After a few bites she made herself some courage and cleared her throat.

"What are you going to do about the baby? When will you tell Henri?"

Merci stopped and for a moment just played with the food in her small plate. She took another bite and when it seemed that she was going to ignore her question she put the fork down.

"I was considering not telling him."

Rogue looked at her confused.

"Well… wouldn't he notice at some point?"

The woman didn't look up. Eventually Rogue's eyes grew wide with realization.

"Oh….." she wanted to swallow but there was a knot in her throat. "Are you sure about this?"

Merci took the napkin and rearranged it on her lap. She avoided looking at her.

"I have already talked to someone. I just need to give them a sure answer by the end of the week."

Rogue felt how lost the woman was and yet she admired the power with which she took the cup back up and continued her breakfast.

"They told me it was safe and clean. Nothing to worry about. They are the best in the south… and discrete as well."

When she went for her coffee Rogue realized that instead, her hand was shaking at what she was hearing. She forced the cup back down.

"I don't want to be intrusive but… is this what you really want?"

"Of course not!" she looked at her for the first time since they opened the subject. "But I've been thinking of it. The doctor said that there are still some chances that I could have a baby in the future even if I do this… I guess I'll take the chances because this is not exactly the right time to bring the news of a baby."

"Would you really do that because of some stupid traditions?"

"They are not stupid and they are far more than simple traditions." She hissed. "They are written laws."

"I don't know those laws, but I am pretty sure that there's nowhere written how you should treat your body and your family life!" she retorted with the same attitude.

"Maybe not, but I know what this would do to Henri. He cares about Remy and this would only bring more quarrels in the family. I have a duty as a wife to make sure that Henri is not thrown again in the web of paranoia and chaos that the old council knows how to create. It's like they're looking for each and every chance to see the family eating itself!"

Rogue stared at her. She really couldn't understand in depth the ways in which the Guild worked. And at this point she was sure she didn't even want to. Every coin had two faces and she was willing to bet that all the power that they had, came at a high price.

She returned to her breakfast.

"Ah still believe that you should make your decisions. Not based on what some lunatics want but on what you feel that is right. Living your life with unbearable secrets is not a fun thing to do." She should know.

Merci glanced at her before she let out a bitter laugh. "You're quite a peculiar little thing… is this what you get of the story? I was expecting you to urge me to tell Henri before taking such a decision since it's his child as well. That's what normal people would say."

"If by normal people you mean the house in which you live then maybe you should get out more often. Ah am sorry, but there's nothing normal about that family."

Mercy regained her smile.

"Can't argue with that…" She looked at the waiter and nodded at him to come and fill her glass with some orange fresh.

"Thank you for listening."

"Well… I am partially guilty for what you're going through… listening feels like it's too little."

"It's more than enough. Usually they just go and tell people what to do."

Whatever she wanted to say, she instantly changed her tone. "Oh, _merde…._"

"What is it?"

"That's Marlene… Olivia's best friend. She'll murder me when she'll find out that I went shopping without her."

Rogue rested her chin on the back of her gloved hand.

"That bony woman with an entire ostrich on her head?"

Merci let out a crystalline laughter at her choice of words. And then she stared some more at the woman they were talking about.

"You know… now that you mentioned I can't get the image out of my head."

Rogue proceeded to her coffee unfazed.

"I'd hate to have a seat behind her at a theater."

The blond woman hid her amusement behind the glass.

"What's with these hats anyway? They are hideous… you could just take an animal and put it on your head and add some flowers and it would look the same."

'It's called opulence…. There's a lot on the streets of this city."

Rogue giggled. "Look at that one for example…red and pink…who mixes red and pink?"

"Oh, that's the wife of the mayor. She takes advices from the worst designers in Texas."

"…I can see that…."

"Oh look... this is going to be interesting; the French Quarter is filled up with spicy encounters all the time. That over there, coming out of the perfume boutique is the mayor's mistress aaaand" she made a pause for extra drama "Delahoussaye's wife. He's the most famous art dealer in New Orleans'…also still paying his debts towards the Thieves…" she stopped another time but this time in order to check if Anna was still following her. She had no idea of how much the woman knew about their ways. By the look of it she had it covered.

"She's pretty." Rogue looked appreciatively over the top of her glasses as she put them back for discretion. Tall, slim, stylish, deep brown eyes, long legs. What was there not to like about her?

"Of course she is… Jean-Luc brought her into the city some years ago. When she understood that she was not going to be the next lucky Mrs. LeBeau she slipped to an easier candidate that eventually ended up marrying her."

"Hmm… and what did her husband do to owe something to the Thieves?"

"… her…"

Slowly Rogue looked at the woman to her right, both of them with their elbows on the table, their chins cupped in their hands. Merci met her eyes in that silence.

It only took a moment until both of them burst in a fit of giggles.

Rogue heard the sound of running steps coming from behind her and laughs filling the air. Somewhere in the distance she thought she heard someone cursing loudly in French. She looked back just in time to see a group of raggedly dressed young boys running past their table down the street. Out of instinct she looked down at the small bags she had at the feet of her chair, things that she bought and were weightless enough for her to carry. She could never be too careful on the streets of the Big Easy. Before the boys disappeared completely from their view, Rogue caught sight of a familiar face.

"I've seen some of those children at the mansion."

"You probably did. The Thieves make use of them to deliver information and keep an eye on everything that is happening on the streets of this city."

Rogue frowned.

"They use children to do their less clean job? Isn't that too harsh?"

Merci raised a questioning eyebrow.

"The Thieves are not exactly the cleanest organization, but I guess you already knew that. And I don't see how that can be considered harsh. The bayou is anything but paradise. It's a very dangerous place. These boys earn a fair coin by doing what they are asked; better than begging at the corner of the street."

Rogue fell silent. She couldn't argue when things were seen from that point of view.

Merci eyed her carefully, judging her reaction. "You know...I can't understand how a decent woman like you didn't run when she realized the sort of family Remy comes from."

Rogue was taken aback by the sudden shift of topic. What could she answer to satisfy the woman's curiosity? For some reasons lately she had found herself telling more truths than she did in years.

"Who said I was decent?" she made a pause and then added with some edgy humour. "What decent woman would get involved with a cad like Remy, anyway?"

Merci felt intrigued, and for the first time she realized that, even if right under their noses and subjected to their questions, they didn't really know much about the woman in front of her. She wanted to ask something but something caught her eye and in she felt the blood leaving her face.

"_Merde!"_

Rogue looked at Merci instantly. She didn't like her tone. It was nothing like the previous cursing. It didn't mean any trifle between women. To Rogue it sounded more like a morbid realization. And when she met the livid expression of the woman she knew she was right. That "merde" translated more into Merci remembering why agreeing to let her out was a bad decision.

So she followed her line of sight. Her eyes traveled all the way across the street until she caught sight of a tall, slim, coquette woman. For some reason unknown to her, her own heart started to pound faster.

Dressed in a blue frilly dress, the rich colour was only rivaled by the woman's eyes. Long legs, labeled shoes, lace gloves, she had the frame of a doll. And her sun bathed face was framed by natural curly, vibrant-blond locks. Rogue felt a sting of envy towards this dreamy image of the perfect southern belle.

Instinctively she went after her coffee. So did Merci but her gestures were rushed and nervous. She attempted to hide herself behind the glass.

"This was a mistake; a terrible, terrible mistake."

"What are yah talking about, sugah?"

Merci turned her head to one side.

"I can only pray to virgin Mary that she moves away and doesn't see us."

Rogue looked back at the woman… and frowned.

"Well… I don't think that's an option anymore."

"What?!" Merci panicked but didn't dare to look.

She tucked one of her auburn locks of hair under the scarf as she watched the woman secure her purse under her armpit and approach them with confidence.

"She's coming right this way."

Only then did Merci dare to turn back into her seat, defeated. Her glass was not so gently put back on the table as she started the approaching woman in the eyes. Rogue saw her jaw clench.

"You know her, I take…"

"The entire New Orleans knows her, darling."

Rogue brought her cup of coffee back , preparing to take a sip as her eyes lingered on the blonde woman that was navigating to their table.

"She's so pretty though… Who exactly is she?"

Merci spared her a worried look and she truthfully didn't know what to do. Fight her distress or laugh hysterically at the craziness of the situation. She looked back at the woman who was now getting closer and smiled a delicious fake smile her way as she whispered to Rogue.

"I can't say that I am surprised that you don't know about her. Oh Remy, Remy… I am still eagerly waiting for the day in which he'll actually take responsibilities and consider someone else's feelings other than his."

Now Rogue was confused.

"That's Bella Donna Bordeaux … the heir of the Assasin's Guild… also… Remy's fiancée ... or I guess in this situation his other fiancée…" she paused and pondered amused "though taking everything that has happened into consideration I think you're the _other_ fiancé."

But Rogue had long chocked on her coffee. The moment the name had rolled out of Merci's mouth she felt a terrible weight in her stomach. The familiarity of the name ranged painfully in her head like a horrible omen. And there she had it. When Merci finished her sentence she felt the entire world blackening and spinning around her. She almost spilled her coffee on her dress as she desperately reached for a napkin.

"What?!" she hissed horrified behind the piece of cloth.

But there was not time for an answer.

"Bella Donna, what brings you here?" she smiled but didn't bother hiding her venom towards the intruder.

"Ah, Merci, such a surprise to see you, chère." the woman dismissed her tone.

Rogue swallowed hard and carefully wiped her chin. What a sight she must have been… in front of this woman nonetheless. She wished the earth would part in two and eat her entirely.

The woman seemingly raised her chin and spared a look her way.

"And how might your new friend be?"

"Oh…" Merci looked at Rogue. She kept her hand busy by pushing her blond hair behind the ear.

"This is Anna; she's…new around here. I was showing her around New Orleans." Merci only wished that her words would satisfy the woman's curiosity.

"Oh…" and so, self-absorbed, she lost her interest in a blink. "Do you mind if I sit _avec vous_ for a while?" But she waited for no answer as she pointed towards the waiter to bring a chair for her at the table.

"I won't be keeping you long. I just need a rest… I've been around town all morning. I ordered a new set of necklaces from Antoine and since I was already here you know I couldn't stay away from having a look at my favorite boutiques."

She put her purse on the table and opened it, getting out a cigarette case and a zippo.

"A caffé latte." She lit a cigarette. "Smoke?" she asked pushing towards them the masterfully engraved case.

"No, I don't feel like it."

Then she turned to Rogue.

"Thank yah but I don't smoke …usually." She wondered why she felt like adding that last word.

"Ah, so you are from the south as well…"

Rogue simply nodded and rearranged the napkin on her lap, avoiding her eyes. She felt petrified, lost. She had no idea what to say or how to react. The position in which she was …_That jerk, not saying a single word to her about it._

"I head Remy is back. That rascal! He didn't even tell me. I had to learn word about him from the streets."

Merci returned to her glass. She was willing to bet that at some point in the future this particular table will be on everyone's lips as one of New Orleans's most shocking gossips.

"He returned a couple of days ago…. but you know how he is."

Then the blonde across them interrupted Merci again.

"Oh, how rude of me ... where are my manners? I'm Bella Donna Bordeaux, Remy's fiancée. I guess you already know Remy – where are you staying exactly, I didn't catch that…" She purred with a strange insinuation of possession in her words.

Rogue cleared her voice. It felt as if she had completely forgotten how to talk.

"I'm staying at the LeBeau mansion." Rogue could read in the woman's frown and in the pause from her smoking that that was the moment in which Bella Donna decided that she didn't like her. Her rapid and sugar-coated answer only confirmed her theory.

"So you've met Remy."

Suddenly Rogue felt heat rising up in her body. The fact that Merci was standing aside, watching the round of rivalries between them made her forget about her pitiful position.

"Yes Ah did. Though I have to say, since Ah got here I haven't seen much of him. Only last night at the dinner and ..ah yes, that morning, remember Merci?" she looked energetically at the woman as if she had just remembered a casual fact "when he got home looking awful and reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume."

Merci brought a hand up to cover her small gasp at Rogue's indiscrete words. She looked at Bella Donna bemused, and her desire to grin only got bigger as she caught the expression of pure outrage painted in her face.

Bella Dona clenched her jaw and let out a long puff of smoke, carelessly in Rogue's direction.

"That's Remy to yah… probably driven 'round N'Orleans by problems." She smiled reassuring. "You can't change a man like him. Only a foolish woman would get angry on petty deeds like these. He always liked to make me jealous. It's his little game… to fire me up. But what I share with Remy is special. He plays with a lot of naïve women, but loves only me. If you've met him already you must know how he really is; whatever woman he has, in the end he returns to his fiancée."

Rogue remained quiet and Merci felt the tension. Only then she asked herself what was she doing. She was not supposed to stay back and watch them as a source of entertainment. She should be avoiding any conflicts. That's the last thing that the Thieves needed at that moment, and it would all fall on her head.

But something stopped her. Merci always loved to play with fire. And she was curious by nature; curiosity that often got her into troubles. And the sudden smile on Anna's face made her dangerously curious to what it might happen.

On her part Rogue kept that wise smile long enough on her dark painted lips. She took one last sip from her coffee and arranged the sunglasses over her nose.

"I completely agree… you couldn't be more right." She took her purse and got up. "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I'll go check one or two more shops while you catch up without my intrusion. Merci, if you don't mind I'll leave my bags in your care."

"Sure…"

Rogue said no goodbye, no nice to meet you, knowing how much the confused woman wanted to hear those words. She tried her best not to storm away from the table so she focused on the powerful grip on her purse.

To say that she was infuriated was an understatement. She really had in mind one particular boutique that she wanted to return to but she disappeared into the closest shop as soon as she could. It didn't matter what it was. When she opened the thin door the bell on top rang and she was hit by the powerful fragrance from inside. She was determined to do one thing and one thing only – buy the most expensive product that the shop had to offer.

Rogue made her way to the owner.

"May I have a gift card, please? I want to write a message. Also, I want to have my acquisition delivered as fast as you can to the following address."


End file.
